


Love and Other Hazards of Reality TV

by Switch842



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, Reality Show AU, The Voice AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Switch842/pseuds/Switch842
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Colfer has been stuck in Clovis far too long. When he has the opportunity to audition for The Voice and possibly work with the amazing Darren Criss, can he take the pressure? And what happens when an unexpected attraction threatens to get in the way of his dreams?</p><p> </p><p> <img/></p>
<p><br/><i>DOWNLOAD THE SOUNDTRACK:</i><br/><a href="http://www.4shared.com/rar/uOXNRuj1/Love_and_Other_Hazards.html">4Shared</a> | <a href="http://www.sharebeast.com/hp99gkd9j4sh">ShareBeast</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you are not familiar with The Voice, there is a decent run down of how the show works [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Voice_%28U.S.%29). There will also be a bit of a summary at the beginning of each chapter like what happens on the show. So, hopefully, you won't be too confused. :-)
> 
> The format of the show in this story is based on season 2 of The Voice (US).

_Welcome to The Voice. A singing competition that's different from all the rest because it puts vocal ability first._

_Four of the biggest stars on the planet: Blake Shelton, ten number one singles and current CMS Male Vocalist of the Year; Cee Lo Green, three time Grammy winner, one half of the famed group Gnarles Barkley and the voice behind the number one smash "Forget You"; Christina Aguilera, vocal prodigy, five time Grammy winner and widely regarded as one of the best voices of all time; and newcomer Darren Criss, YouTube sensation, co-founder of the StarKid theater company, three number one singles from his debut album, Grammy's current Best New Artist and Billboard Magazine's Artist of the Year. These four judges are here to continue the phenomenon that took America by storm last year._

_Here's how it works:_

_During the Blind Auditions, to make it onto a team, a coach must push a button. Their chair turns around and the artist joins that coach's team. But, if more than one coach hits their button, the power to choose shifts. Now, it's up to the artist to decide the coach they'd most like to work with and the coaches must convince them they're the best person for the job. They'll use every trick they've got._

_Each coach wants to discover the one artist who will win it all – a recording contract with Universal Republic Records and the name The Voice._

_The Blind Auditions start right now._

* * *

We're almost there and it's hard to stop my knee from bouncing in nervous excitement. This is it. My chance to get out of Clovis for good; possibly my last chance. When my parents first told me about the auditions for The Voice, I thought they were crazy. I mean, it's not like I really want to be a pop star or anything, but ever since I skipped that Glee audition when Hannah got really sick, it's like they've been trying to shove me out the door for any little thing that comes along. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they're supportive of my dreams, whacky as they may be, but it can sometimes seem like they're a little too… _eager_ to get rid of me.

Anyway, I went to the audition, mostly to get them to shut up, and somehow the producers liked me. They liked me enough to send me to LA to the Blind Auditions round. In just a couple hours, I'm going to get up on stage and sing in front of four of the most important people I've ever met. But first, apparently, make-up and hair and interviews.

I don't remember much of the walk from the car, but as soon as we enter the studio where the show films, we're greeted by a PA who introduces herself as Eve. She's petite, with long brown hair, bright eyes and a permanent smile on her face. She takes my family to a waiting area and I'm swooped off to hair and make-up, trying to keep up with everything she's saying.

"Now, if you make it on the show, this segment will be spliced in during some voice over we'll pull from the interview we'll do shortly. It will be aired just before you take the stage to sing, so just act like you're about to go on stage for the cameras that are in there," she says. "We do this part first, so we can then go back and get pick up shots of you and your family walking into the studio and everything will still look right with continuity."

"Right," I say as I nod, remembering some of what I'd seen last year on the show.

"I'll come back and get you in just a little bit. So, try to relax. You're in good hands," she adds with a smile and I try to smile in return, but I'm sure it probably just comes across as a grimace.

I'm guided to one of about fifteen different stations set around the large room where two more people are waiting to get their hands on me.

"This is Julie and Steven," Eve introduces them. "They'll take good care of you. See you soon!"

I turn and shake hands with Julie and Steven. Julie introduces herself as the make-up artist and she is _tall_. At least six feet, though it's hard to tell for sure with the massive heels she's wearing. She's got short blonde hair that kind of sticks up all over the place in an artfully disheveled kind of way. She has several piercings in each ear and a few tattoos on her arms that I can see peeking out from the short-sleeved top she's wearing.

Steven, my hair stylist, is not much taller than I am, with jet black hair and warm brown skin. He's wearing a simple black button down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows and stylish dark wash jeans. I feel horribly out of place in my black Levi's, blue Henley and a vest I picked up at Target. Back in Clovis, this counts as designer wear, but I'm suddenly well aware of how much I don't really belong in a place like LA.

However, Julie and Steven are nice and pleasant and do their best to calm my nerves. We make small talk for a minute while they finish setting everything up and first it's time for Steven to work his magic.

"So, the hair. Is this how you always wear it?" he asks as he runs his fingers through it.

I nod hesitantly in response. It's just parted on the side, the front falling over my forehead a bit. I wish I'd had time to get a haircut before we came here, but it's all happened so fast.

"Are you terribly attached to this as a style?"

"Not really," I reply. "This is just, you know, the $12 SuperCuts special!" I say with a laugh.

He chuckles politely in response. "All right. I think we can do a little better than that. Do you have any product in your hair?"

"Nope."

"Great. You're going to look fabulous when I'm done with you."

He takes out a black barber's cape and settles it over my shoulders before spritzing my hair down with water and combing it out.

"Now, I'm just going to trim the back and sides a little bit," he tells me as he takes out his scissors. "I want to leave some length on top so we can play with that a bit and sort of swoop it back, out of your face. You have beautiful features and we want to make sure to show them off."

I nod nervously as he gets to work. I suddenly feel like I'm getting a $200 haircut for free and try to appreciate everything these people are doing for me. I know it's all for my benefit, to help me relax and feel good so I can do my best. I haven't even sung yet, and this is already one of the greatest experiences of my life.

I try to sort of ignore what's going on and let Steven do what he needs to do. I think about what's going to happen in a few hours when I take that stage and sing for everyone. I run through the song in my head, humming a few notes every now and then. I think about how the staging is going to go, the suggestions the stage manager and band leader had made with the lighting and musical arrangements. I hear and feel Steven start to blow dry my hair and coax it into something with a semblance of style. Soon enough, he tells me he's done and I open my eyes and get my first look at myself.

I look amazing.

Steven has rearranged my boring, brown locks into a shiny pompadour of sorts. It rises up off my forehead and sweeps back elegantly, somehow making me look more mature than I did just 15 minutes ago.

"That's incredible," I say, leaning in to get a closer look.

"Thank you," Steven replies.

"You're going to have to teach me what you did so I can do this all the time."

"We can do that," he says with a laugh. "Julie?"

"You look fantastic," she says. "But now it's my turn. Have you ever worn make-up before?"

"Oh, yes," I reply. "I've done theater for years, so I'm used to everything."

"Excellent!" she says. "I don't want to do too much. You have beautiful skin, but I am afraid with how pale you are, you're just going to look completely washed out under the stage lights. So, I think just a little concealer under your eyes, some bronzer to tone things down a bit and a little mascara to open your eyes a little more. Any allergies?"

"Nope," I reply.

"Okay." She sorts through some products on the vanity, holding a few shades up to try and match my much too pale skin. She settles on one and tells me to look up. I do and feel her dab some make-up under my eyes before blending it all in with a brush. She picks up a pot of loose powder and I'm told to close my eyes. I feel a soft brush sweep all over my face, probably setting the concealer and then a slightly stiffer brush follows on my forehead, nose and cheekbones. _That would be bronzer_ , I think.

"Open your eyes and look down, please," Julie directs.

I open my eyes, avoiding looking in the mirror until everything is done and try to not blink as the mascara brush combs through my lashes. 

"All done," she says a short time later.

"Oh, wow," I can't help saying as I look in the mirror. "It's so… natural." And it is. I don't even look like I'm wearing make-up, but my face looks a little more contoured and not quite so pale. It just looks like I've spent a little time in the sun recently, and actually managed to get a tan and not just burn to a crisp. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," she replies.

"Looks like I’m right on time."

I look over and see Eve approaching, her ever-present headset bopping in place.

"You look great," she says. "How do you feel?"

"Better, but still nervous," I admit. The little bit of pampering has done wonders for my nerves, but they're not completely gone.

"That's fine," she said. "It'll work great with what we need to do next. It's just a few minutes of some filler of you staring in the mirror. Maybe playing with your hair, looking quite serious and contemplative. Can you do that?"

I nod. I most definitely can do that. Steven and Julie clear out of the way and the camera guy positions himself off to the side and slightly in front of me. I close my eyes to center myself and take a deep breath. I decide to use this time to give myself the mental pep talk I need.

"And action!" Eve calls.

I look at myself in the mirror and reach up to arbitrarily move some hair that wasn't out of place. _You can do this,_ I think. _They wouldn't have invited you here if they thought you were talentless. You have something special and this is your chance to prove it. As RuPaul is fond of saying, "Don't fuck it up."_

"Cut!" Eve says. "That was great. Now, if you'll come with me, we'll head to the green room where you can wait with your family and Carson will be over to talk with you for a little bit. He's seen the home video you sent in and read your bio, so the questions should be geared to what you've told us, and not just generic 'get to know you' questions. Also, you've drawn the eighth slot for this morning, so your wait shouldn't be too long."

"Thank you," I say politely.

We continue on our way with no more small talk and, once more, my mind starts racing with thoughts of what's to come. The longer I'm here, the closer I know I'm getting to my final chance to do _something_ with my life and the harder my heart starts to pound with the thought of what might happen if I fail. I suddenly feel as if I could just shatter apart with all the nervous energy that's flying through me.

We finally make it to the green room, and even though it's been less than an hour since I was swept away, I'm so relieved to see my family. I give my mom and Hannah big hugs, and even my dad sweeps me up into his arms.

"Look at your hair!" my mom cries. "You look wonderful."

"Thanks," I say smiling nervously.

"Come on, sit down," my dad urges. 

I sink down onto the plush white couch and am surprised at how comfortable it really is. I sink back into the cushions and close my eyes to try and gather myself back together. I hear my family talking around me, but I'm not entirely sure what they're saying. My mind won't stop racing with all the possibilities of how this could go: I could forget the words, my voice could completely crack on the high notes, I could trip and fall off the stage. I'm just imagining my mom wailing as I'm wheeled off on a stretcher when I feel something wet poke me in the ear.

"Hey!" I cry, sitting up swatting at Hannah's hand.

"Oh, come on," she replies. "You look like you're about to march off to your death, not go sing a stupid song."

"It's not just a stupid song," I reply. "It's everything."

"We know, honey," my mom says. "But it's not going to do you any good to get all worked up like this. Just relax, if you can. Do you want some tea?"

"Actually, yeah," I tell her. "That would be great."

"I'll be right back." She pats my knee as she stands before heading over to the little Starbucks bar they have set-up.

"So," Hannah says.

"Yes?" I reply.

"Someone finally made you good looking, huh?" she says, flicking at my hair.

"Oh, stop it," I say, swatting her hand away. Again. She's always had this thing about poking me in the face. It's really annoying. "You know you wish you looked as good as me."

"Pfft," she replies. "I'm totally fabulous."

I just laugh and pull her in for a hug. Annoying as little sisters can be, she's actually totally awesome most of the time.

My mom comes back with some tea and I barely take a sip before Carson Daly joins us. We all stand and I introduce him to my family. He's very polite and exudes a calm demeanor that I'm very grateful for.

"Welcome, Chris," he says. "How's it feel to be here?"

"Nerve-wracking," I say with a laugh. "This is probably the biggest thing I've ever done."

"You do have some experience on stage though, right?"

"Oh, yeah," I reply. "I've done community theater for years and I actually filmed a little independent short film a couple years ago, but nothing on this scale."

"How do you think the other contestants might react if you make it on the show given that you seem to come from more of a theater and acting background than just being a singer?" he asks.

"I would hope it doesn't matter. Unlike other singing competitions, this one is about finding the person with the most original voice, not necessarily America's next pop star or anything like that. Plus, I think that maybe they'll see me as a bit of an underdog and, well, America loves an underdog, don't they?"

Everyone laughs at my little joke and that helps me relax a bit. 

"That they do," Carson says. "I also heard that you're something of a Darren Criss fan."

"I am," I say nodding and hoping that the flush I'm sure is rising on my face can't be picked up by the cameras. "Well, I'm a huge Harry Potter nerd to start with and when I heard there was this parody musical on YouTube, I had to see what that was all about. And, well, it was pretty amazing."

"It has been quite a pop culture phenomenon," Carson agrees before turning to my family. "What do you guys think about all this?"

"We're just so proud of him," my dad replies. "He didn't have the easiest time growing up and we're just so happy he has an opportunity like this."

"He's done so much for us," my mom adds. "It's really time for him to get to do something that's just his."

"What would winning The Voice mean to you?" Carson asks me.

"God…" I trailed off as I tried to find the words to describe what that would mean. "Everything. Acceptance, acknowledgement, hope for other kids like me that they can do it."

"Good luck, man," Carson says, reaching out to shake my hand again. "You're gonna be great."

"Thank you," I reply sincerely. For the first time I start to think I might actually be able to do this.

Once he's gone, my family does their best to distract me from the creeping nerves, and they actually succeed for the most part. They start telling horror stories from my first couple shows, getting me to laugh at the memories of how naïve and eager I was back then. Not that I'm not eager now, it's just a little more controlled.

Before I know it, two hours have flown by and Eve comes and tells me that it's my turn. We stand and follow her down the hall. My family is directed to a room where they'll watch my performance with Carson. My mom pulls me into one last hug before we're separated. 

"Break a leg," she whispers. "You can do this."

"Thanks, Mom."

I'm surprised when my dad pulls me in for a hug, too. He doesn’t say anything, just looks me in the eyes and nods as he squeezes my shoulder.

I pick up Hannah and swing her around in a hug, getting her to laugh.

"Put me down!" she squeals.

I set her down, and she clings on to me one last time. "Break a leg, big bro," she tells me.

"Thanks, Hannah Banana."

She rolls her eyes and shoves me away. I just laugh at her and wave to my family as they're ushered into the waiting room and I'm directed further down the hall into the waiting chamber.

"You've got about fifteen minutes before you'll actually be called on to stage," Eve says. "You'll do a brief interview first, which is where we take the voice over from. Try to speak as slowly and clearly as possible, but still keep it natural. Then you'll head into the backstage waiting area. Feel free to warm up as you need to. The room is pretty soundproof, so they shouldn't be able to hear you out in the audience. Another PA will come in and get you when it's time and hand you the microphone. Don't forget to take it," she says with a laugh.

"Right," I agree. "That would be a bad idea."

"Good luck," she tells me and I'm left with another PA for the interview. 

I don't remember much of what they actually ask me, but it must have gone okay. The PA seems pleased with what they got, at least. Then I'm shown to the waiting room and it's just me and my nerves.

I hum a few bars of the song and run through some quick vocal warm-ups. I pace around, trying to get the last of my nervous energy out. I roll my neck and shoulders around, going through some simple physical stretches to get myself centered. Eventually, I just stop as all the moving around seems to be making me more nervous. I take a deep breath and empty my mind. I can do this. I know this song. This is _my_ song. It's my time now and nothing is going to get in my way. Not even my own nerves.

Soon enough, the door opens and the other PA is directing me towards the stage. I grab the microphone and make my way up the stairs to center stage. I block out the audience, the judges, my nerves, everything in my mind that is screaming at me that I'm just going to make a fool of myself. I get the microphone settled in the stand, close my eyes and wait.

I had a rather lengthy discussion with the band leader during rehearsal about which version of the song I wanted to sing. We ended up settling on a pretty straight-up version of the song from the show, rearranged slightly to eliminate the other voice. The piano plays the brief intro and I hear the murmur run through the audience as they immediately recognize the song. I take a deep breath and sing.

_Something has changed within me_  
 _Something is not the same_  
 _I'm through with playing by the rules_  
 _Of someone else's game_  
 _Too late for second-guessing_  
 _Too late to go back to sleep_  
 _It's time to trust my instincts_  
 _Close my eyes and leap_

_It's time to try_  
 _Defying gravity_  
 _I think I'll try_  
 _Defying gravity_  
 _And you can't pull me down_

I make myself forget about the judges, I can't concern myself too much with them, or I'll just have a panic attack right here and now and tune myself into the audience. They're amazing; it feels like it really is just them and me. They're giving me so much in return that what happens next catches me completely by surprise: Darren's chair turns around. It startles me so much, I almost forget to keep singing. Luckily, some subconscious part of my brain is still with the program and I come in with the music as the second verse starts. My voice is strong and confident. I can stop worrying because that was it; I did it. I risk a look at Darren as I reach the chorus for a second time and smile as Darren just stares up at me with a look of utter amazement on his face.

By the time I'm done with the chorus for the second time, Blake's chair turns around, with Cee Lo not far behind him. I'm not sure how I hold on long enough to finish the song. This is so much more than I ever thought would happen. The audience is on their feet, cheering me on; the judges are sitting there, completely captivated by me. _Me!_ As I reach the final verse, I pull on my last reserves, deep inside and put everything I have into it, knowing I have to hit that note. I have to prove to everyone that I can do it and that the judges aren't wrong for choosing me.

_So if you care to find me_  
 _Look to the western sky_  
 _As someone told me lately,_  
 _"Everyone deserves the chance to fly!"_  
 _And if I'm flying solo_  
 _At least I'm flying free._  
 _To those who'd ground me,_  
 _Take a message back from me._  
 _Tell them how I am_  
 _Defying gravity!_  
 _I'm flying high_  
 _Defying gravity!_  
 _And soon I'll match them in renown._  
 _And nobody in all of Oz_  
 _No Wizard that there is or was_  
 _Is ever gonna bring me down!_

The audience is immediately on its feet when I'm done. I look down at the judges and am surprised to see Darren and Blake giving me a standing ovation, too. This is just so overwhelming. I'm not quite sure what to do or think. I'd been so sure that none of the judges would turn around and three of them have and now _I_ had to make the choice? How could I ever make a decision like this?

"What's your name, son?" Blake asks once the applause has died down.

"Chris Colfer. I'm from Clovis, California," I reply, surprisingly calm.

"Well, Chris, that was just a phenomenal performance," Blake continues. "I gotta admit, and I mean no offense, but I wasn't quite sure if it was a guy or a girl singing when you first started."

The audience laughs and I join in with them. "That's okay," I tell him. "I'm often mistaken for my mother on the phone."

"Well, either way, your voice is so unique that I just had to know who you were. I'll be honest, I'm not sure what I could do for you if you pick me, but I would do my best to make sure you do your best."

"Thank you," I reply.

"You are just adorable!" Christina exclaims. "I'm really kicking myself for not pushing my button, but I know you'll do well with one of these guys as your coach."

"Thank you so much."

"Chris Colfer," Cee Lo says in the drawl of his.

"Yes, sir."

"Wow. I'm so impressed with what you can do. And that's your natural voice?"

"It is, yes."

"Wow. That is just amazing. I would love to have you on my team. I know we could do amazing things together."

"Thank you very much."

I then turn my attention to Darren and am slightly taken aback at the force of the gaze staring back at me.

"I'm just…" Darren trails off. "I gotta say, you've left me a little speechless. I don't think I've ever heard anyone with a voice like yours. There's something very… natural and organic about it. I am completely blown away. From the first note, I knew you were something special and I couldn't wait to get you on my team."

"Thank you very much."

"What do you say, man?" Blake asks. "Who are you gonna pick?"

"I, um…"

I pause before continuing. Of all the ways I had imagined this going, this is honestly the least likely outcome. I have to choose between these three amazing artists? How can anyone do that? They're all so incredibly talented and I would be so honored to work with any of them. I look around the audience and hear their cries for each of the judges. I look back to the row of judges sitting in front of me, taking in each of them and trying to quickly weigh the pros and cons of what each could do for me.

"You're all so amazing and I'm such a fan of all of yours," I start. Once more I catch Darren's eye. Darren simply smiles and nods slightly and I know that this really wasn't a choice at all. "But I have to go with Darren."

"Yes!" Darren cries jumping up.

I walk down the stairs to meet him, my hand extended in greeting. Darren just pushes my hand aside and wraps me up in a fierce and tight hug.

"Oof!" I huff as the breath is practically squeezed from my body.

"You were amazing," Darren says. "This is gonna be great. You won't regret this, I promise."

"Thank you," I tell him again. "I appreciate your enthusiasm."

Darren pulls away and starts applauding again. The audience joins in as I make my way off stage. I wave at the crowd and can't help the smile that splits my face when I hear the response.

I made it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Tonight on The Voice, the Blind Auditions are over and for 48 incredible artists everything is about to change._

_Prepare yourselves for battle._

_The world's most exciting singing competition continues as the coaches and their teams enter The Battle Rounds. Our coaches, Blake Shelton, Christina Aguilera, Cee Lo Green and Darren Criss each have twelve team members who are about to lay it all on the line for a spot in the live shows._

_The pressure is intense as the artists face off against their own teammates in a vocal battle. To help prepare their teams, the coaches will personally train their artists and provide them with their very own expert advisors. Darren has enlisted the help of Broadway sensation Idina Menzel and R &B producer and singer Robin Thicke. Blake's advisors are pop powerhouse Kelly Clarkson and his wife, country superstar, Miranda Lambert. Cee Lo has brought in legendary record producer Babyface and R&B star and producer Ne-Yo. And Christina has enlisted the help of singer/songwriter Jewel and legendary music icon Lionel Richie._

_With the battle lines drawn, the artists put on a performance of a lifetime. When the battles are complete each coach will be left with only six artists to represent them in the live shows. There America will decide who will win it all: a recording contract with Universal Republic Records and be named The Voice._

_The Battle Rounds start right now._

* * *

Four weeks later, I exit a cab and walk up to a very large and heavy looking wood door. I tug my backpack higher on to my shoulder and drag my suitcase over the cobblestones. I worry for a second about whether I should ring the doorbell or not before remembering Eve's instructions to just make myself at home when I arrived. So, I open the door and step into one of the most gorgeous homes I have ever seen.

The foyer opens directly into the living room which ends with large floor to ceiling windows overlooking an expansive yard. The floors are covered in a warm hardwood and the walls are painted a muted beige. There are paintings and black and white photographs hanging on all the walls. The furniture looks expensive, but still incredibly comfortable. The large sofas are a deep navy with pillows in tones of gray and beige to complement the walls. There are 4 large arm chairs in corresponding shades, as well. For some reason, it makes me think that if I were to ever see Darren's house, it would look a lot like this. The thought makes me smile and relax a bit. This was made to feel like someone's _home_ and not just a random house twelve of us will be living in for the next couple months.

"Hi, there."

I start at the voice and turn to see a girl with long red hair standing in a nearby doorway. She must have come from the kitchen as she's holding a bottle of water and an apple.

"Sorry!" she apologizes. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's okay," I laugh. "Just got lost in my thoughts for a minute. I'm Chris."

"Amanda," she replies, coming to shake my hand. "I'm glad you're here. I've been here for the last hour and it's kind of weird being in a house like this by yourself."

"I can imagine," I say looking around. This place is massive. Well, it would have to be with how many people are going to be living here.

"Want to go claim a bedroom?" Amanda asks.

"Yes!" I say. I know we'll be sharing rooms, but I'd like to have first dibs, if I can.

"This way."

Amanda leads me over to the staircase and I drag my luggage up to the second floor. 

"There's two wings up here," she says. "I'm down this way with two other bedrooms. It looks like there are two bedrooms down the other way. There's a master suite with its own bathroom and then two more baths for the other rooms."

I nod and start heading down towards the wing with the two bedrooms. As nice as it would be to have my own bath, along with whoever else ends up sharing the master suite, I'll make do with sharing one of the other baths. I've shared a bathroom with my sister for years and if I can survive that, I can survive anything. The first room we come to has two full beds, a plush carpet on the floor and the walls painted a muted purple. The window faces the front of the house, so it has a lovely view of the driveway. Moving on.

As soon as I open the door to the second room, I know it's mine. It's painted a deep green with light colored bedding and it looks so much like my room at home that I honestly wonder for a second if someone sent them pictures. It also faces the backyard with a large bay window and a cushioned seat.

"Dibs!" I call, even though Amanda is the only one there.

She laughs and runs into the room, jumping on the bed nearest the door. Which is just fine because I wanted the bed by the window. I plop my suitcase down on the bed and unzip it to start packing.

"No unpacking! Time for that later," Amanda calls out and drags me back out of the room. "I've been waiting for someone else to show up so we can explore the rest of the house."

I let out a laugh as she pulls me down the stairs and back to the entry where we met.

"Which way?" she asks.

I point to the left, to the doorway she was standing in when we met. If that is indeed the kitchen, it seems to be the best place to start. This place is huge and I'm going to need a bottle of water to make it all the way through.

After the kitchen, which is gorgeously appointed with everything a gourmet chef could ever want, we decide to head out the French doors to the backyard.

Where there's a pool. With a slide and a waterfall.

And a Jacuzzi.

I officially love this house.

I mean, not that I'll be using either the pool or the Jacuzzi with my tendency to turn red as lobster if I spend longer than 5 seconds in the sun, but the area is surrounded by a gorgeous stone patio complete with a large grill and a small outdoor kitchen. There are several tables with large umbrellas that should provide me with ample shade if I do decide to venture outdoors during my stay.

"Oh my God!" Amanda cries. "This is amazing!"

We both laugh and run around the yard, inspecting everything. The small refrigerator in the kitchen is fully stocked with all sorts of meat and vegetables that would make for a delicious meal. 

There's another set of doors on the other side of the yard leading back into the house through a media room. There's eight plush leather recliners facing a wall that holds the largest TV I've ever seen. A door to our right leads back out to the living room, but another set of doors opposite where we entered leads to a room holding a gleaming back piano. I wander over there and see several music stands in one corner and realize this must be one of our practice rooms. The paperwork I'd received mentioned that each team had two rehearsal spaces – one on the grounds and another offsite that is also where we will be recording the songs that end up on iTunes. I sit down on the piano bench and tinker with the keys.

"You play?" Amanda asks.

"No," I reply. "Well, you know, Chopsticks. The stuff everyone can play."

I'm about to ask her if she can play anything when we hear the door open. We just smile at each other and rush out to greet our newest roommate.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of people arriving and showing everyone around the place. I end up rooming with a guy named Mark from Boston. He's got a shock of almost white blond hair and is built like he belongs in an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. I remember him from his audition; he'd sung Otis Redding's _Dock of the Bay_ and had shocked everyone with the soul he'd been able to put into it. I remember being surprised when he'd picked Darren over Cee Lo, but you could never tell what people were going to do. We have a really diverse team this year and I'm really excited to see what everyone is going to bring to the competition.

We all decide to take advantage of the beautiful weather and use the grill for our first team dinner. One of the guys, Robert, is one of the older team members with a wife and three kids at home in Texas. We unanimously decide that he should be in charge of cooking the meat. I help Amanda and Theresa, a tall blonde pop singer from Chicago, put together a salad and some other side dishes in the kitchen. 

We're laughing at a story Theresa is telling us about her brothers back home when we hear someone else come in the front door. I look quizzically at my teammates because everyone is here.

"You guys got room for one more?"

We turn to see Darren walking into the kitchen carrying his guitar and looking gorgeous as ever. He's wearing a simple purple v-neck t-shirt, tight dark wash jeans and old, worn in oxfords. He greets us all warmly with hugs and smiles. We lead him out to the back where Robert is just finishing up the last of the steaks and we all sit down to enjoy our delicious meal.

It's strange, having Darren here. I mean, he's supposed to be our coach and mentor, but he's just hanging out like he's one of us. It's nice, though, that he's trying to be friendly with everyone. Knowing he cares so much really just makes me want to work harder to show him that he was right to pick me.

All too soon, though, the meal comes to an end and Darren stands to leave.

"Thank you, everyone, for the delightful meal," he says. "But, I'm afraid I must be going. I will be back bright and early tomorrow, though. I'd like to talk to each of you individually before I make my final decisions about the battles. Get to know your strengths and weaknesses, where you want to go as an artist, what you hope to get out of this experience. That kind of stuff. So, see you in the morning!"

Well, shit. Apparently I have a lot to think about.

* * *

Carson had hinted at my dilemma back during our initial interview at the blind auditions – what was it I really wanted out of this? Do I want to become some sort of pop star recording artist? I don't know, honestly. So, should I leave? Should I even be here when I know that they are people that have been working at this their whole life and, well, I'm just kind of here on the whim of my parents? I take a can of Diet Coke and go sit by myself over by the Jacuzzi to try and figure things out.

I've made my way through most of the Diet Coke when Amanda joins me. She just sits quietly next to me for a few minutes, obviously waiting for me to start, but I'm not sure what to say.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" she asks knocking her shoulder into mine.

"Just what Darren said as he left. You know, about what we want to get out of this experience."

"So, what do you want?"

"Honestly?" I ask turning to look at her. She nods her head encouragingly so I say the only thing I've been able to think about since I got here. "I just want out of my stupid, narrow-minded town."

"So, just tell Darren that."

"Then he's just gonna ask why I'm going through all this if all I want is out and everyone else is going to be telling him their grand plans for their big music career and he's, like, gonna kick me out or something."

"Right. Darren's totally the type of guy to kick you off the show for being honest," she says, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

I look over at her and roll my eyes. But I know she's right. The best thing I can do is be honest about what I want and, who knows, maybe I'll end up loving everything that happens.

"I do want to be here," I tell her. "I really, truly do. I mean, I love performing and it just seems that whenever I'm up on stage is really the only time people actually listen to me."

"I'm sure Darren knows that and will understand everything you tell him. Just, be honest. It'll be fine."

"Thanks, Amanda."

We hug quickly and I head up to bed. I'm kind of surprised how quickly we've become friends. I don't really have a lot of friends. I just hope I don't end up against her in our first battle.

* * *

I sleep later than I mean to the next morning after spending a good portion of the night tossing and turning over what's going to happen today. By the time I'm done getting ready, it's almost 11:00 when I finally wander into the kitchen to find food. I hear the piano tinkling in the music room and Mark tells me that Darren is in there with Elena. She's one of the younger members of our group, only nineteen. She's from LA and definitely one of the most stylish people I've ever met. She has an asymmetrical bob that frames her heart shaped face perfectly and, even just sitting around yesterday eating dinner, she was dressed like she was going to a five star restaurant while the rest of us were in jeans and t-shirts. I remember her voice has this bluesy quality to it that I don't think I've heard before. It's this sort of weird mix of Adele and Katy Perry.

"Have you met with Darren, yet?" I ask Mark.

"Not yet. Elena's only the third person, I think. Robert and Kim met with him earlier and they had nothing but nice things to say. There's nothing to be nervous about, man," he reassures me.

I scoff and take another sip of my coffee as Darren comes walking into the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," he says. "Chris, good to see you again." I simply nod in response. "You ready, Mark?"

"Yeah!" Mark takes one last sip of his coffee and heads out ahead of Darren. Darren, who I swear, _winks_ at me as he leaves. 

I mean, not that it means anything. From what I've read and seen of him online, he seems to be the kind of guy that would wink at his best friend should the occasion call for it. But, still, I have to forcibly calm my heart from beating out of my chest and just thank whatever deity is watching out for me that he didn't catch me in my pajamas. 

I root through the freezer and find a box of Eggos in the freezer and some bacon in the fridge. Score! I start cooking my breakfast and pour a glass of orange juice while I wait for Darren to return. I have no idea if I'm next on his list. Or if there even is a list, but I figure it's better to be prepared.

I'm just done cleaning up my breakfast dishes and think about heading out to the backyard where some of my teammates are gathered when Darren comes back into the kitchen.

"Chris!" he says. "You ready man?"

"As I'll ever be," I say and smile as he laughs at my joke that isn't really funny.

We're silent as we make our way across the house to the music room. I'm suddenly extremely nervous about everything. My palms are sweating, my heart is pounding and I know my voice is going to come out all high and shaky when I start talking.

This is going to be a mess. Not just because of what I have to tell Darren, but that it's _Darren_ I have to tell it to. Darren, who is amazing and ridiculously talented and funny and gorgeous and I've had a crush on him since, God, _forever_ it seems like and he picked _me_. Out of all the people that were on the stage that day, he picked me. And now I have to tell him I don't know if I want to be a pop star, and there's really no way this is going to end well.

"So, Chris," Darren says, gesturing to the two arm chairs in the room. "I gotta say, I'm so excited you're here. I mean, I still get shivers when I think about your audition and what it is you can do. This is going to be amazing."

Oh, shit. I told you. This is gonna suck.

I don't really know what to say, so I try to smile and nod encouragingly.

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"I, um," I say, clearing my throat when I hear my voice start to crack. "I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

"Nervous? What for?"

"I guess it's kind of just hit me what it is that I'm doing here. And that I'm here with _you_ , who I've admired and been a fan of for so long and it's kind of hard to believe this is all happening?" I know I'm rambling now, but I can't seem to make myself stop talking. "Yesterday when you asked us to think about what we want to get out of this experience, the only thing I could think of is that I want out of Clovis. I honestly don't know if I can tell you that I have any grand designs for being a pop star. Not that I don't want to be here, I do. I mean, I love performing and being on stage is really the only time I ever feel like I'm really _me_ , but I don't know if that's enough."

I sit back and deflate as I finish talking. I'm so embarrassed. I can't believe I just told him all that.

"Okay," Darren says. "That's a lot of information to take in. Can I ask you a question?"

I just nod, not trusting my voice yet.

"What was it like for you growing up?"

"Um, well, not good, really," I say quietly. "I mean, I got teased pretty much daily for how I sounded and being so short and smaller than most people. It wasn't really until a couple years ago that I finally hit this growth spurt. Even theater, where it's supposed to be okay to be different wasn't always the best. Most of the time, the director didn't know what to do with me, so I got stuck in the back in the chorus. And, well, the whole _Defying Gravity_ thing."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that," Darren interrupts. "That was a really bold choice."

"Well, I wanted to sing it at my school's talent show, but they wouldn't let me since it's a 'girl's song' or whatever. So, I figured if I'm gonna be doing this, I might as well go all out. And, you know, things weren't always bad," I add. "I wrote a lot. Including a spoof of Sweeney Todd wherein I played Mr. Lovett. And my family has always been supportive of me and what I want to do."

Darren just nods as he takes in what I've told him. And really, that was the watered down version. There's no reason for him to know how bad things really were.

"Well," he finally says. "The good news is, we're not looking for America's next great pop act or whatever. That's what all those other shows are for. We're here to find The Voice. Whatever that might entail. I don't know if you watched any of the audition episodes, but Christina has a guy who sings opera on her team and Cee Lo has a rapper. We've got duos and country singers and hard rockers. Everyone here has a chance to win this."

"I just… I guess I want to use this as a chance to make people really _listen_ to me and what I have to say. I don't want to be ignored anymore."

"Then we'll make sure they hear you," Darren says.

And I believe him.

* * *

We talk a little while longer, about the show and what to expect in the coming weeks. It sounds like a lot, rehearsals and press and recording sessions, but I want to do this. I want to show everyone here that I can do this. 

"Now," Darren says standing up from his chair and moving to the piano. "Let's get down to why you're really here – the music."

He motions for me to join him by the piano, so I stand awkwardly for a minute before he scoots over to make room for me next to him on the bench. I sit down and try not to blush when I realize how close we're sitting. His hands immediately gravitate to the keys and he starts playing. I don't recognize the tune, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was something he just made up.

"So, what kind of training do you have?" he asks.

"Well, none, really," I say. "I mean, a little bit from the various musicals I've done, but I've never had any technical voice training."

"Wow," he tells me. "Then what you can do is even more impressive. How big of a range do you have? Do you know how low you can sing?"

"I can get pretty low, actually," I admit.

"How low?"

"Do you know _Rent_?" I ask.

"Do I know _Rent_?" he asks incredulously. "Of course I know _Rent_. What kind of musical theater nerd would I be if I didn't know that?"

"Can you do _I'll Cover You_?"

He just stares at me for a moment, his eye narrowing as he thinks over what I've just asked.

"So, wait a minute. Are you saying you can sing as low as Collins does?"

"Yeah," I admit with a shrug.

"This I gotta hear," he says and turns to the piano.

He starts playing and I marvel at the music that he has just sitting in his head. It's one thing to have lyrics, but to know everything well enough to be able to just plunk it out whenever you want must be phenomenal. 

He starts off singing Angel's part and I take a moment while I can to just take him in. I've unfortunately never been able to see him live in concert, so being this close to him is something I want to remember.

"Be my lover and I'll cover you," he sings and I take a deep breath, opening my chest to be able to get down to the register I'm going to need.

"Open your door, I'll be your tenant," I sing. "Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet. But sweet kisses I've got to spare. I'll be there and I'll cover you."

I was prepared to keep singing the next part, but Darren's hands fall from the keys with a loud plunk. 

"Are you shitting me?" he says.

"Um, no?" I say.

"I mean, I've never met anyone with the range you have. They're idiots."

"Who?"

"Anyone who ever shoved you to the back because they didn't know what to do with you. You should be front and center in that spotlight."

"Well, thank you," I say, blushing slightly. Hearing such praise from someone like Darren is a little overwhelming.

"Chris, man. We are going to do amazing things."

* * *

I leave our meeting feeling better than I did before. At least I know that Darren really is on my side through this whole thing. Tomorrow, we start filming everything related to the battles and I'm really anxious to see who I'm going to be battling and what the song is going to be. With everything that happened today, it could be just about anything.

The next morning, we're gathered early for make-up with the crew. Most of the girls are fine as they are and us boys just need some powder so we don't blind the cameras with our shiny foreheads. We get set-up in the backyard and briefed as to what is going to happen. Darren will announce the battles, and the two chosen will immediately leave and be given the appropriate sheet music. Rehearsals start later that day in the studio near the stage. We'll also be recording a version of the song that will be released on iTunes. Which, it's crazy to think that I could have a song on the iTunes charts.

We're all sitting around on the most comfortable lawn furniture I've ever seen, waiting for Darren to show up. The longer we sit there waiting, the more nervous I get. I just want to know who I'm battling and what song I'm going to be singing.

"I can't believe how nervous I am," I tell Amanda who's sitting next to me.

"I know," she agrees. "This is so much worse than the audition. I mean, what if I hate the song Darren chose for me to sing? Or what if it's something that's just not in me to do?"

I can only nod at her rambling as I've been thinking the same things all morning. 

"If for some reason, we end up battling each other," I say, "I just want to say now that I've loved getting to know you and I'm sorry I'm going to kick your ass."

She laughs and that seems to put us both at ease. "Oh, bring it on," she replies.

I'm interrupted by saying anything by Darren's arrival.

"Hey, everyone!"

We all yell back and applaud as Darren joins us.

"Thanks guys. It's nice to see you all again," he says as he takes a seat. "So, unfortunately this will not be as fun as dinner the other night because at the end of this, half of you will be here and half of you will be sent home. I've chosen songs for all of you and will be assigning you a partner with whom you will battle it out. Now, you're all absolutely amazing and it's honestly going to suck to have to send some of you home. But to help me out, I've brought in some amazingly talented people to help make sure all of you do the absolute best that you can."

This is something else I've been kind of nervous about – the celebrity advisors. I just hope I don't completely freak out and, like, bow to whoever it is that Darren has chosen for us.

"So, with that said," Darren continues, "let's get down to business. The first battle is going to be… My man Chris."

I gasp a little as he calls my name first. I mean, I wanted to know what I was going to be singing, but to be chosen to go first is a lot of pressure.

"Who will be battling…"

Please not Amanda. Please not Amanda.

"Elena!"

I look over my shoulder to where Elena is sitting behind me. She smiles and nods as we take each other in. On one hand, I'm relieved it's not Amanda. On the other hand, I'm worried that since my opponent is a girl, we'll be singing a song by a female artist and, as much as that's where I'm comfortable, I don't want to be pigeonholed as the guy that sings girl songs. And there's the fact that her voice is very different from mine. What song could Darren have possibly chosen for us to sing together?

"And you guys will be singing the classic rock anthem _[Under Pressure](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xtrEN-YKLBM)_ by Queen and David Bowie."

"Wow," I say. 

That's certainly one way to get the competition started.

* * *

Elena and I are whisked off by the producer for a short interview. They ask me questions about my opponent and what I think of the song Darren chose for us.

"I haven't had a lot of time to get to really know Elena, but I remember her audition. I think she really has an amazing voice and it's going to be interesting to see how our voices blend together. As for the song…" I pause as I try to think of what I want to say. "I mean, it's a classic. It's one of those songs everyone is instantly going to know, so they're going to know if you mess up. But, I think it's a great song to kick things off with and I just hope I can do it justice."

A couple hours later, once all the battles have been assigned, we meet with Darren at the recording studio to start rehearsal. 

"I think we should just jump right in, see where we are and then go from there," Darren says.

"Sure," I reply as Elena nods.

Darren turns to the band and the familiar bass beat fills the studio. I have to stifle a giggle as _Ice, Ice Baby_ starts playing in my head. But, I get myself together in time and come in with Freddie's opening beats. Elena joins in when the first chorus starts and we actually sound amazing together. The slightly gritty tone to her voice balances out with my smoother vocal quality and I'm getting really excited about this. We finish the song and both wait to hear what Darren's going to say.

"Man. This decision is going to _suck_."

We all laugh because what else can we do? We know what's at stake and what's going to happen in two weeks time. No one wants to go home, but someone will.

"But seriously," Darren continues. "You guys are both fantastic and I'm really glad I paired you guys with this song. Everyone is going to love it. So, let's break this down a bit."

We spend the next hour fine tuning the song and really getting into the specifics of the performance.

"Chris, when you come in on the 'Let me out' parts, just give that a little more oomph. The song says that you're screaming, so I want to feel that. And Elena, I think if you could enunciate just a little more on the 'Pressure on people, people on streets' lines that will help. Really hit those Ps."

By the time we're done, my music is so marked up it's almost unreadable. But I feel really good about what we did today. This battle is going to be awesome.

"So, tomorrow, Chris you're with me and your advisor and the day after is Elena. Then we'll move to the studio to work on staging and really bring the performance as a whole together."

He hugs us as we leave, which, if that's his preferred greeting, I'm not complaining. My stomach starts to flip a little when we get back to the house and I start thinking about who the advisor might be. It's always someone really impressive and amazing and I just really don't want to make a fool of myself in front of whoever it is.

* * *

I'm shuttled off to the studio just after breakfast the next morning with the other contestants that will be working with this same advisor. My heart is pounding and my palms are sweating with the anticipation of just who is waiting for me. I pull open the door and pretty much stop dead in my tracks.

"Are you kidding me?" I cry out to which Darren and my advisor just laugh.

It's Idina Menzel. Elphaba herself. This is just… I can't believe it's her. Of all the people, to get to sing for her and hear her advice is such an amazing opportunity.

"Hi, Chris," she says as she comes to introduce herself.

She knows my name. Idina Menzel knows my name. Is this really happening?

"Hi," I manage to reply as she pulls me into a hug. "It's such an honor to meet you."

"Well, thank you. I have to tell you I saw your audition and-"

I hold my breath as I wait for her criticism.

"-you were wonderful. Your voice is really just incredible."

"Thank you," I say blinking back tears. "That just means so much coming from you."

"You ready to get to work?" she asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's do this."

I take a quick drink of water while everything gets set up and breathe deeply to get my nerves back under control.

"You come from a theater background, right?" she asks.

"I do, yeah. All of this stuff is really kind of new and intimidating a bit," I admit.

"It's really just another kind of performing," she says. "Sure, you're not playing some fully realized fictional character, but all performing is some sort of theater. Look at what Lady Gaga and Katy Perry are doing now. Who they are when they're up on stage is not who they are in everyday life. Which isn't to say they're inauthentic or anything, but they are playing character."

"I think for you," Darren continues, "the challenge is going to be finding that balance of being true to yourself but also figuring out who you are when it is just you up on stage."

I nod as I take in their advice. It all makes sense, it really does. It just hammers home a lot of the insecurities I had been feeling about myself and if I even deserved to be really be here.

"Shall we take it from the top?" Darren asks.

"Yeah, let's do this," I say with a smile.

We go through the song once with Darren singing Elena's part. Which is just another one of the amazing mind-blowing experiences to add to the list.

"That was great," Idina says when we’re done. "I think, though, that when you get low, you also have a bit of a tendency to get quiet. Probably because you're not as used to singing in that range. So, just make sure you give those notes just as much support and push through them so we don't lose you when you get on stage."

"Right, okay," I reply.

We work on certain sections of the song until it starts feeling really solid.

"There's just a couple more bits, I think, that we can strengthen some more," Darren says. "On 'Pray tomorrow gets me higher, high, high.' On that last 'high', just go for it. I know you can hit the note, but it's still feeling a little tentative. If you relax your throat a little more, that should just open right up. I think if you can start it a little softer, too, with a little more breath in the notes and then just power up to that last one, it'll have a lot more punch."

The band plays a few bars of introduction and I sing again, trying to make the adjustments Darren suggests and I can tell it is feeling different and by the time I get to that last note it's right where it needs to be."

"Yes!" Darren says as he and Idina applause when I'm done. "That's it. That's it exactly."

I look over at Idina and I would swear she looks like she's about to cry. She has one hand pressed to her chest and her eyes and she's biting her lips as if to contain something.

"You just… You _emote_ so well. I really feel like you're feeling everything you're saying. When you get to the end with 'Why can't we give love one more chance'," she sings and I internally squee at hearing it, "I just want to stand up and shout, 'Yes! Why can't we?' You're just amazing, Chris."

"Thank you. Just… thank you." 

I'm slightly speechless and amazed at the feedback that I've gotten from these two amazing artists. It's everything I always wanted to hear and hearing it from them? Is the greatest thing in the world.

* * *

The rest of the two weeks pass by in a blur of rehearsal and recordings and photo shoots and show interviews and _press_. I get fitted for ear monitors, which is really weird, have meetings with the wardrobe stylists as to what kind of image I want to portray on stage. There's so many things happening behind the scenes that you never really think about when watching the show.

But before I know it, the day is here. I'm backstage with all the contestants waiting for everything to start. I look at myself in the mirror and I barely recognize myself. I'm in this gorgeous slim fitted black suit, the pants tighter than anything I've ever worn. A skinny black tie and amazing metallic wing-tip shoes complete the outfit. 

Julie and Steven from the blind auditions were back to help finish things off. Steven has coaxed my hair into this fantastic pompadour and I have to admit, I feel amazing. 

"Well, look at you."

I turn and see Amanda. With everything that's been going on, I've barely seen her and it's such a relief that she's here that I immediately sweep her up into a hug. I pull back and finally take a good look at her. She looks beautiful.

"I could say the same to you," I reply. "You look like some sort of disco goddess."

Her hair is falling in soft curls down her back and she's in this gorgeous bright green dress that plays off her pale skin beautifully. She's singing [_Last Dance_](http://youtu.be/qU3MXibkIx4) by Donna Summer with Jenna, a young jazz singer from Philadelphia. It's an amazing choice for them and I can't wait to hear it.

"Thank you. Nervous?" she asks.

"Terrified," I admit. "I mean, we're opening the show. This is the first impression people are going to have of the show, not to mention me. It's a little daunting."

"You're going to be amazing," she tells me. 

I'm about to tell her the same when one of the producers comes to get me.

"I guess it's time," I say.

"Don't sweat it. Just go out there and kick her ass."

"Yes, ma'am," I laugh as I follow along to my waiting spot backstage.

I'm handed a microphone and listen as Carson introduces us.

"It's the moment of truth for two members from Team Darren. First up, the blues singer from LA, Elena Davidson! Up against the theater kid with the voice of an angel, Chris Colfer!"

I plaster a smile on my face and run out on to the stage, waving at the crowd. The cheers are deafening and I have to admit, it's a bit of a rush knowing all those people are cheering for me. I scan the audience for my family. I know they're here somewhere. I finally spot them sitting off to the side, just behind Darren. I blow my mom a kiss and take my place on stage.

"Let the battle begin," Carson says once the audience quiets.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. This is it. My last chance to show that I'm more than the nobody everyone in high school thought I was. There is no way I am messing this up. This is mine and I am taking it.

I hear the audience hoot and holler as the music starts up and instead of blocking it out like I usually would, I soak it up. I use their energy to drive my performance. I transform myself into the stage persona I'd developed over the last couple rehearsals. He is confident and strong, everything America wants to see. I raise my microphone and sing those first beats like they could be my last. Elena comes in when the chorus starts and the audience goes crazy for us. We sound _amazing_. I'm hitting everything we'd talked about in rehearsal; we're both stalking around the stage like we own it. I sing out to the crowd, drawing them into the performance and the response makes my blood pump with excitement. I have never heard anything like what's being directed at us. It's intoxicating.

By the time I get to my final solo verse where I'm begging everyone to give love one more chance, I'm so high on the rush of adrenaline, I honestly don't care whether I win or not. Of course I would love to win and stick around, but… I did it. I got up and sang and people loved it. They loved _me_.

The moment the last piano notes fade out, the audience is on its feet, roaring with applause. I can't stop smiling. That was the most amazing thing I have ever done. I love it. I want to do it again. I belong here. I belong on this stage. I just hope Darren sees that.

"Wow!" Carson says as he joins us on the stage. "That's one hell of a way to kick of the show. Great job guys."

We move over to stand closer to Carson as he asks the other judges for their opinions before Darren is forced to make his decision.

"Blake. Let's start with you."

"Chris. You're the one who sang _Defying Gravity_ at the auditions, right?"

"Yes, sir," I reply as the audience cheers. I don't think I'll ever get tired of that sound.

"I mean, the range your voice has to be able to go from that to, you know, Freddie Mercury is phenomenal. Elena, I thought you sounded great, as well. That bluesy thing you do worked really well with the song. But, I think I would have to go with Chris on this one."

My smile gets even bigger and my cheeks are going to be so sore by the time this night is over, but I don't care.

"Alright. Thanks, Blake. Christina?"

"I don't envy you, Darren," she says. "That was one hell of a show you guys just gave us. Vocally, I think Elena was a little stronger, though. Chris, your range is really impressive as Blake said, but there were a few parts where it just sounded like you maybe got a little out of control and let the song take over your voice. Um, so, yeah. I would have to go with Elena."

I can't help but notice the audience's applause is not quite as enthusiastic for her as it was for me. Not that that necessarily means anything, but it's nice to know.

"Thanks, Christina. Cee Lo?"

"Chris, I just loved your performance as a whole. I like the vibe you've got goin' on and you really sold me on the song. Elena, I thought you sounded lovely, but your presence wasn't quite as strong as Chris' was to me. So, for me, I would go with Chris."

"Thank you, Cee Lo. Darren, some comments before you make your final choice?"

"I'm just so proud of both you and what you've accomplished these last couple weeks. In the short time I've had with you, I've seen you both grow and develop so much as artists and performers. Elena, you're still so young, but the way you commanded that stage tonight showed how mature of a performer you really are. And Chris. Man, Chris…. The things you can do and are capable of, I know we've barely scratched the surface and tonight you showed how much you deserve to be here."

"Who's the winner?" Carson asks.

I feel him grab my wrist in preparation of Darren announcing the winner. My heart is pounding, my ears are ringing, the audience is screaming my name and I just _want this_. I want Darren to say my name so badly.

"I love you both so much and I hate having to make this choice. But tonight, the winner is…"

I swear my heart stops as he pauses and my body runs cold with the thought that he might choose Elena.

"Chris."

And then my arm is in the air, raised in victory, the audience is on its feet and I swear, if Carson wasn't holding my arm up, I would have just collapsed in relief.

I hug Elena briefly and she whispers her congratulations.

"Congratulations, Chris. We'll see you in the live shows," Carson says.

I barely register the words and his gentle nudge off-stage. I know I need to go and head backstage for the post show interviews. I hardly feel my feet touch the ground as I run down the steps and after a very brief handshake with Darren, I'm taken to the interview room by a producer.

I have no idea what I say to the questions I'm asked about the performance and Elena and working with Darren. I can only hope I didn't make a complete idiot out of myself. Just as I'm about to go stir crazy being kept in that room by myself, the door is jerked open and Hannah comes running into the room. I hold out my arms and scoop her up, spinning around a few times.

"Put me down, you dork!" she shouts.

"Oh, honey," my mom says pulling me into a hug. "That was just wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

"You sounded amazing. Darren would have been an idiot not to choose you."

"Thanks, guys," I say.

I did it. I proved everyone wrong. I do have what it takes and I can't wait to show America what else I can do.

* * *

_With his win, Chris has secured himself a spot on Darren's team for the live shows._


	3. Chapter 3

_Eight weeks ago, the Super Bowl ended and the phenomenon began as The Voice became the number one show of the season. It all started with the Blind Auditions when four of the biggest superstars in music began their search for the greatest voice in America._

_Each coach painstakingly picked twelve artists for their team then paired them up in vocal battle duets, leaving the coaches with agonizing decisions over who would represent their team in the live shows._

_But tonight, everything changes. It's all on the line when two of the coach's teams take the stage._

_Darren is bringing a diverse team with singers from all around the country. While Blake will showcase unique sounding vocalists._

_They'll train their artists for the performance of a lifetime. But for the first time this season, the power to choose shifts. America will help decide who stays in the competition and who goes home._

_Only one artist can win it all: a recording contract with Universal Republic Records and the chance to become music's next big star._

_The Live Shows begin right now on The Voice._

* * *

The first couple days after the battle round are hard. Since these rounds aren't live and need to be edited together with the various interviews we've all given, it's going to be close to two months before all the episodes have finally aired. This means that the contestants that have been eliminated are still stuck in the house with those of us that won. So, yeah. Awkward.

But then, a couple nights later, someone finds a game of Twister and that just breaks the tension. At some point, Amanda manages to drag me into a game and we're all red faced with laughter by the end of the night.

Darren finally comes over again about a week later. We're all sitting out by the pool, finishing up lunch, when he joins us with his guitar. 

"I just wanted to tell you all how proud I am of all you," he says. "I really wish I could have kept all of you and each of the decisions I had to make just broke my heart. I wish you all nothing but the best and I know you can do anything you put your minds to."

We all applaud and I notice a few people discretely wiping tears away. Darren is just constantly surprising me. You hear stories about how he's just this ridiculously nice guy, but can that really be true? Well, it is. He's just so sincere and earnest in what he says and does, it's astonishing. I hope he never loses that.

"Now, I hate to do this, but I do need to talk to the winners for a little bit. We need to get started on what's going to happen during the live shows."

Amanda, Robert, Theresa, Jason, Charlie and I all follow Darren into the music room. There's a strange energy in the room as we get settled in. We're all excited since we're one step closer to winning, but the competition has also gotten a lot tougher. Half of our teammates are gone. We're slowly getting down to the best of the best.

"So," Darren starts once we're all sitting. "Unlike the battle rounds, I will not just be assigning songs. Now that we're to the live shows with America's votes deciding who stays and goes, it's really time to show them who you are. I do, of course, have ideas of what I think would be good songs for all of you, but I want this decision to be as collaborative as possible. I want to make sure you're all comfortable with the choices so that you have the best opportunity to give the strongest performance you can."

My mind immediately starts racing with possibilities. I know what songs I'm comfortable singing, but there's also a lot of emphasis put on pushing yourself as an artist and stretching out of your comfort zone. And then there's also what song would best show the audience who I am. Which, when I'm still trying to figure that out myself, is kind of tricky.

Darren continues to tell us that we're not just singing like we did during the auditions or even the battle rounds.

"This is where we really start to amp up the production values. We're talking choreography and lights and lasers and fog and special effects. All that stuff that can really make you into a _performer_ ," he says. "Obviously, the extent of what we do will largely be based on the song you sing. We're not gonna have you walking around through burning fire if you sing _The Scientist_ or something."

We all laugh at that, because, well, yeah. That would be weird. But again, this just adds a whole new level to the song choice that needs to be made. I'm not really that strong of a dancer, so some dance heavy song is obviously out of the question.

"And there's one more thing, too," Darren says. "Since there are more of you here this year than there were last year, the elimination round is going to work a little differently. The three artists with the most votes will be through to the next round and the bottom three will sing one last time and I will be forced to save only one of you to continue. So, you'll each have to prepare an additional song that you may need to sing. But, I will not know what song you will be singing. This song and the staging will be entirely up to you. It's basically another blind audition. So, make your choices carefully."

Before he leaves, we get the schedule of when we'll be meeting with Darren at the recording studio to go over our song choices in more detail. He also gives us his email and cell phone so we can get in touch with him if we have questions or ideas. These next few weeks are going to be intense for sure.

* * *

A few days later, Amanda and I are out by the pool, talking things out and trying to make some decisions about what we want to do.

"I don't want to do Adele or Whitney or anything expected like that," she says. "I want to surprise them, you know?"

I nod in response. I'm sure the judges are probably expecting certain things from me, too, and it could be fun to throw them off their game a little.

"Okay, so," I say, "if you could have sung any song that's ever been, what would it be? Not just your favorite song, but that song that you wish was yours?"

"Hold My Heart, Sara Bareilles," she says without hesitation. "It's just such a beautiful song and the feeling behind it just really gets to me every time I hear it. And it's a song I can play on the piano, which I think would be nice to show them."

"I think that sounds like an excellent idea," I say.

"What about you?" she asks. "Had any luck thinking of anything?"

"Nothing specific, no," I sigh. "I think I definitely want to do something a little more current, more mainstream. I've done Broadway and classic rock, so I think I should do something different."

"What's your instinct say?"

"I would love to do Madonna or something like that," I admit. "But, I think the judges would probably be expecting that, given my audition and everything. Plus, there's the whole thing of still trying to figure out what kind of artist I want to be. Like, if I had to go into a studio tomorrow to record a whole album I have no idea what would be on it."

"You'll figure it out," she says.

We're interrupted by my phone ringing. I check who it is and see it's Darren calling. Oh, goodness.

"I should take this," I tell her, standing up to move away. "Hello?"

"Hey, Chris. It's Darren."

"Hey, Darren. What's up?" I say, hoping my voice sounds calm.

"I was just wondering if you'd had any ideas yet about your song for the live shows?"

"Not really," I admit. "Some vague notions of what I'd like to do genre wise, but nothing really specific."

"Okay," he says. "I had an idea this morning, so I'm going to send you an email with the song. I want you to listen to it and then get back to me and let me know what you think."

"Yeah, sounds good. I'll call you back in a bit."

"Okay. Talk to you soon."

"Bye."

I tell Amanda about the call and go inside to download the file Darren sent me. I transfer the song to the iPod we've all been issued by the producers and take a listen. I vaguely recognize the name of the band, but I can't say the song is familiar. But, it's… really good, actually. Sort of mid-tempo, not really a ballad, but not really very upbeat either. It might just be the song I'm looking for.

I call Darren back immediately.

"Let's do it," I say after he answers.

"Yes!" Darren yells and I can't help laughing in reply. "This is gonna be great, Chris. I'll see you in few days."

We say our goodnights and I flop down on my bed, the song on repeat. The more I listen to it, the more I love it. I can't wait to get started.

* * *

A few days later, I head off to the studio to meet with Darren so we can start rehearsing. The cameras are there, of course, to capture whatever they can to be edited in the little intro before I perform live for the first time.

"Hey, man," Darren says as I enter the studio, greeting me with his customary hug.

"Hi," I say.

"So, you like the song?" he asks.

"I do, yeah. It has everything I wanted to do sort of all in one package," I reply. "I was thinking I wanted to do something more modern and current and this is very different than either of the other two songs I've done. So, yeah. I'm really excited to start working on this."

"Great! Well, let's jump in then, yeah?"

We get everything set and run through the song a couple times, working out some of the kinks. It goes well, I think, but when we're done, Darren doesn't seem quite as pleased as I hoped he would.

"Technically, that was just amazing," he says. "But… The reason I suggested this song is that, for me, your strength is your ability to connect to the song and the audience. You're able to convey emotion so well, but I just… I wasn't believing you just then."

"Huh," I say. I'm not quite sure how to respond to that.

"This song," he continues, "is about that feeling of longing and regret. Of knowing that you could have done more and wanting to go back and fix it. To do it right. Have you ever had a moment like that?"

At first, my mind is a blank. I barely had friends in high school let alone any romantic prospects. But then, I remember someone.

"Yeah," I say. "Actually, yeah. There was someone once."

"Do you want to tell me about her?"

I freeze at the pronoun he uses. I forgot that he doesn't know. No one here knows. I look over at the cameras nervously. I know I can tell Darren; I trust him with that. But am I ready to tell the whole world?

"Hey, guys?" Darren says, addressing the cameramen. "Can we have a minute?"

The rest of the room clears out and it's just me and Darren. We move to sit on the couch in the corner and I take a deep breath. Darren just sits there, relaxed and waiting for me to talk.

"His name was Jaime," I say. To his credit, Darren doesn't react. He just sits there with same passive look on his face. "He was a PA on this little independent short film I did just after high school. He was a couple years older and the first out gay guy I had met since coming out myself. He was really nice, you know? We had lunch a lot, he would bring me my favorite coffee and I thought that maybe he liked me, but I was still so new and nervous, I just didn't know what to do. So, I did nothing."

"Thank you, for sharing that with me," Darren says after a few minutes. "I, um, I'd like to try something. With the song. How would you feel about changing the pronouns? You know, he instead of she and the like."

I blow out a breath at that suggestion. That's a pretty big deal, really.

"Let's do this," he says. "Let's just try it here, in rehearsal, so we can at least maybe get you closer to where you need to be emotionally with this song. If you don't want to sing it that way during the live shows, that's fine. It's completely up to you."

"Yeah, okay," I finally agree. "I think I can do that."

We let everyone back in and get the rehearsal started up again. We work for a couple more hours and it does really all start coming together. The change we make to the lyrics really does help and by the time I leave I'm feeling really good about my performance.

"So, next week, we'll move to the stage," Darren says. "We'll start working on the staging of your performance. We're calling in the pros for this, so don't worry about it too much."

I laugh at Darren's teasing tone and, as we part ways, I promise to give serious consideration to singing the revised version we practiced. If nothing else, it's one way to show America who I am.

* * *

Early one morning a couple weeks later, I'm accosted by Amanda as soon as I make my way to the kitchen for breakfast. Before I can even grab a cup of coffee, she's dragging me off to the music room and locking the door behind us.

"What's going on?" I ask nervously.

"Okay. I have to ask you something. It's kind of personal and please feel free to tell me to fuck off if you want, but you need to know."

"Okay…"

"Are you gay?" she asks.

I stare at her dumbly for a minute before I just nod in response.

"Okay. Cool," she says. "My best friend's brother is gay, so my gaydar's gotten pretty good from when would all go out together. Anyway, I just overheard Julia from Blake's team talking about you the other day and how cute you were and that she wouldn't mind if something happened while you were both still here. So, I just thought you might want to head that off at the pass before it got really awkward. You know, if you wanted."

"Julia?" I ask. I can't quite place her.

"Yeah. She's the short blonde one. Seventeen, kinda giggly and super girly."

"Oh!" I say as I figure out which one she is. "But, I mean, I've barely spoken to her. Why would she be interested in me?"

"Like, I said, she thinks you're cute. Sometimes that’s all it takes."

"Alright. Thanks, Amanda."

There's supposed to be some big group dinner tonight, so I'll have to let her down gently, I think. This could be awkward. I've never had to do this before. Man, this show is making me do a lot of things I never thought I'd do.

"Hey," I say before we head back out. "Can I ask you something? Now that you know about me?"

"Sure. What's up?"

I tell her about my song and the suggestion Darren had made to change things up a bit. I still haven't made up my mind yet and I know I need to tell Darren. I don't know why I was so hesitant to talk about it and come out to my housemates. We've really become friends in our time here, but I still didn't want to be The Gay Guy.

"It's one thing to be out to my family and something else to be out to the whole country," I conclude.

"Well," she says. "I'm not gonna say it's an easy decision, because it's not. I think you need to weigh the option of being safe and making it to the next round against being true to who you are and what you might be able to do for other people. I mean, how would it have made you feel to see a guy singing what's essentially a love song to another guy on national TV? I think you can do some real good with this, if that's what you want. Look, at the end of the day, this show is about being the best _you_ that you can be. So, I think you need to figure out who it is you want to be."

She makes some very valid points and I know I still have a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

The next day, I'm on the stage with Darren again and we're starting to work out the final staging for my number. It's a simple set-up with three couples dancing around the stage in some sort of modern ballet style, while I sort of wander around them on the stage. Some dramatic lighting adds to the mood, but we're not going extreme with this. It's going okay, but something's just not quite gelling, like it should. 

"I've decided," I tell Darren during a break.

"Yeah? What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna do the version we rehearsed."

He immediately pulls me into a hug. "That's amazing, Chris. You are going to blow everyone's mind. If they don't love you after this, then they're all morons. You know what? This gives me an idea. Hang on a second."

I watch Darren run over to the choreographer and they converse for a few minutes. They call the dancers over and there's more taking and hand motions, people pointing at each other and some laughing. They walk back onto the stage again and Darren comes back over to me.

"Okay. Watch this and tell me what you think."

They run through the routine again, using a pre-recorded version of the song. But this time, instead of each of the couples being a guy and a girl, there's one couple that's two guys, one that's two girls and the last couple stays the same. It honestly brings tears to my eyes.

"That's amazing," I say when they're done. "Can I… Can I try something?" Watching them had given me an idea. I don't know if it's going to work, but I want to try.

"Yeah, sure." Darren says.

I grab a mike stand and head over to what had been my starting position. There's a little scene set-up down stage left with some broken down wooden crates and a rolled up sleeping bag. I ask the lighting director for an overhead spotlight and we start again. But instead of weaving through the other dancers, I stay where I am, looking out to the audience and just _sing_. For the first time, I really feel the song. For the first time, I feel like I'm doing what I'm supposed to do.

The sound of applause breaks me out of the trance I had been in and I look over to see Darren on his feet, tears streaming down his face.

"Chris," he says, walking onto the stage to stand in front of me. "That was… I'm speechless. That was just one of the most amazing things I've ever seen and heard. If you can keep doing that every week, you can win this."

"Thank you," I say stupidly. The air feels like it's vibrating with energy and his hands are on my upper arms, squeezing ever so slightly. I feel like I need to say more, to tell him how much I appreciate him and his belief in me and how much he's done for me, but my tongue is just stuck. So, we stand there, just sort of staring at each other before the band leader calling out if we're going again breaks the moment.

"Um, yeah," Darren says. "One second. I just have one thing I want to try with the lighting."

They have a quick conference and then Darren calls out to take it from the top. I turn to the side, so I can see what they've changed and, I have to admit, it's genius. Instead of heavy spots lighting the dancers from all angles, they've changed it up so a brilliant wash of pure white light is pouring out from the back of the stage, casting them in silhouette.

This is going to be awesome.

* * *

Before I know it, all the battle rounds have aired and it's time to start the live shows. I am the last member to perform for Darren's team, but Blake's team has the final slot of the evening. I know I'm very lucky to have the spot I do as the audience is more likely to remember my performance, so I need to really be on my game tonight.

I'm much more comfortable in my wardrobe for tonight's performance, than I was the last time I was on stage. Given the mostly low-key nature of the performance, there's no need for me to be decked out to the nines. The wardrobe department has fitted me in a pair of straight legged, dark wash jeans, a navy blue button down shirt that is slightly sheer with zipper detailing on the breast pockets, a white tank under that and light blue patterned scarf to top things off. I feel much more like me, which is good. Given what I'm going to be doing tonight, getting to feel so much like me is a great comfort.

Once we're all dressed and ready to go, we're shown to the green room where we'll all be waiting when we're not on stage. It's pretty nice actually. It helps give a calmer edge to our time at the studio. If we were all just pacing around in some dingy backstage waiting area, I know the nerves would be through the roof. We've been instructed by the producers to tweet our thoughts (by the way, the number of Twitter followers I've gained because of this show is _insane_ ) and interact with some of the viewers in the online chatrooms. It's all very twenty-first century. Christina Milian is absolutely gorgeous and a lot tinier in person than I expected her to be.

We're all set and Charlie is whisked away to get ready for the first performance of the night. He's doing [_Gives You Hell_](http://youtu.be/A6APxbBYnoo) by The All-American Rejects and it should be great way to kick of the show. I'd gotten a little peak at his performance and it is high energy and rock and roll and the audience is going to love him.

Amanda and I are joined by Paul and Bree from Team Blake. The four of us have formed a strange friendship as I doubt that we would even know each other outside of this show, but, that's the wonderful thing about being here. 

Before we know it, Amanda's time has come. I give her a hug and wish her well as she's whisked off to the stage. They had gone with the [Sara Bareilles](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IY30PLBhzH4&ob=av2n) song she had originally mentioned and she sounds so beautiful on it. I actually started crying the one time I had sat in on her rehearsal.

After that, time seems to fly by. I'm taken out to the stage by one of the producers and wait while Carson introduces me and they show my little film from the last couple weeks.

"Last up for Team Darren is a twenty-one year old who once had dreams of taking Hollywood by storm. But his unique voice and amazing talent has landed him a coveted spot on this show. This is Chris Colfer."

I tune out the footage they show as I take my spot on the stage, standing right in front of Darren. Some of the fans in the pit are reaching up to me, so I reach down and shake hands and slap fives. I hear a couple people yell, "We love you, Chris!" and that just gives me the boost I need. I'm not here alone. I have support and fans and my family.

And I'm not scared, anymore.

"Singing _[The Man Who Can't Be Moved](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gS9o1FAszdk&ob=av2n)_ , here is Chris Colfer."

The music starts, the lights come up and I just let go of everything and sing.

_Going back to the corner where I first saw you_  
 _Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move_  
 _Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand_  
 _Saying, "If you see this boy can you tell him where I am?"_

I hear a few gasps from the audience as they notice the lyrics, a few people cheer, but all I see is Darren staring up at me. I want nothing more in this moment to make him proud of me. I want to make my family proud of me. This song is for everyone who was ridiculed or outcast simply because they were different. I feel… powerful. The song is coming to an end and I stare directly at the camera in front of me as I finish.

_Going back to the corner where I first saw you_  
 _Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move._

The roar from the audience is deafening as the lights go down. I slowly make my way up to center stage where Carson is waiting for me. I wave and smile out at the crowd, feeling overwhelmed at the response. The whole audience is on its feet, as is Darren. The other judges are all applauding just as hard, though they're still seated. I try to discretely wipe the tears that have gathered in the corners of my eyes.

"Okay, Chris," Carson says, trying to get everything back under control. "Let's… Let's hear from the other judges before we get to your coach. Christina, let's start with you."

"I just… I mean that was just really lovely. Really, really lovely. I think what you did with it, with the lyrics, was really brave and so amazing. I think that may have been the best performance of the night," she says.

My jaw drops open at her words. That's such a huge compliment. "Thank you so much," I manage to squeak out.

"Blake," Carson continues.

"I gotta agree with Christina," Blake says. "That was a really spectacular performance. And the fact that you just stood there and sang your heart out. Man, that really takes a special kind of talent to command a stage like that."

"Thank you," I reply.

"All right, Cee Lo," Carson says.

"Man, Chris," Cee Lo drawls. "You just continue to surprise me with your range and your performances. Your stage presence is so strong, like Blake said. Everyone else better watch out because you are the one to beat right now."

"Thank you very much," I say.

"And finally, Darren."

"Chris, man," Darren says, his voice still wobbly. "You know how I feel about you and what we did with this song. And I'm just… I'm so, so proud of you and I'm sure your family is, too. You did something really special tonight and I just hope that everyone can see what an amazing artist you are. I can't wait to see what you do next."

Carson gives out my details to the audience and there's nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

The next morning is spent rehearsing the songs we may need to sing if we're in the bottom three. Unlike the song we did in the live show, our coach has no idea what song we might be doing so a fair judgment can be made. Most of me is hoping I won't have to sing, but another part of me is kind of excited if I do. The song I ended up choosing is very different from what I did yesterday and I think it's something Darren is going to like.

All too soon, it's time for the live elimination and we're gathered on stage, waiting for Carson to tell us the results. It's crowded with all twelve of us from both teams up there, but there's an exciting energy, too. We're all nervous and hopeful that Carson will call our name and we'll be safe. No one knows how we've been doing in the voting. We've been banned from all social media until the results are announced. Personally, I'm really anxious to see how my song went over with everyone. The coaches had really wonderful things to say, but they're not the ones making this decision.

But before we can get there, we have to wait through a performance by LMFAO and Team Christina. They're really cool guys, actually. Totally insane in a really good way and just high energy fun. It's a really great way to start off the show.

Then, we're back from the commercial break and being herded out onto the stage. Before we actually find out who's made it through and who hasn't, they show some footage of us with Darren at the L.A. Music Academy a couple weeks ago. That had been a really cool experience. We got to go in and work with the kids, who are insanely talented, and we put on a little show for everyone at the end of the day. Just seeing how gracious Darren is with his fans and how much they all looked up to him was really something special.

Finally, it's time. Carson is given the envelope by an assistant and my heart pretty much stops beating.

"Darren," Carson says. "Before we get to the results, is there anything you would like to say?"

"Yeah," Darren says, sitting up straight. "I just want you all to know how amazing you are and how proud I am of you. You've all grown so much in just the short time we've had together. Even if you don't make it through this round, I know you'll all go on to do amazing things."

"All right. It's time to reveal which three artists from Team Darren, Amanda, Robert, Theresa, Jason, Charlie, or Chris, received the most votes and were saved by America." 

Carson pauses briefly as they audience cheers and I really just want him to get on with it. This is so nerve-wracking, I don't know how much more I can take.

"In no particular order," he finally continues, "America's first save is – Charlie Reid!"

I applaud politely and smile as he moves past me to take his place on the other side of Carson. He really did do a fantastic job and I'm very glad America saved him.

"Two more to go. America has also saved – Chris Colfer!"

It takes me a second to realize that Carson has called my name. I'm shocked. I'm really shocked. And so happy! I join Charlie and smile down at Darren who just smiles and nods backs. I did it!

Now, Carson just needs to call Amanda's name and everything will be perfect. Please let him call Amanda.

"One more name to go. America's third and final save is – Amanda Crawford!"

Yes! I mentally fist pump and we hug fiercely as she joins me and Charlie. This is a really good group. But now Darren has one last difficult decision to make. 

The three of us are dismissed and we wait backstage as our teammates go through their last chance songs. Unfortunately, nerves seem to get the better of Theresa as she is all over the place vocally. Jason does okay. It's not an amazing performance, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as Theresa's. I'm really pulling for Robert, though. He's just such a nice guy and his family is so sweet. Luckily, he pulls it through and at the end of the night, he is the one Darren saves.

 _Final four_ , I think to myself. _And the competition is only going to get harder from here._


	4. Interlude (Teenage Dream)

That night after the results show, we're all on such an adrenaline rush that no one wants the night to end, so we end up having a little impromptu party back at the house. Everyone from Team Blake comes over and some of the folks from Christina and Cee Lo's teams are there, too. I think even Blake came out for awhile. And, of course, Darren is there. I was worried that our teammates who had been eliminated would be mad or upset, but no one is. They're all genuinely happy for us. It's a really, really good thing to see.

I'm standing by the pool, talking with Amanda and Bree when Darren finds us. I'm in a really good mood. I'm laughing more than I have in a really long time and my whole body feels like it's buzzing. Whether it's from the margaritas I've had or the high from winning, I don't know. But everything is awesome.

"There he is!" he shouts, pulling me into a hug. It's so unexpected that I almost spill my drink with the force of it. "And ladies," he continues, pulling back, but keeping his arm around my waist. I'm pretty sure he's had a beer or three by this point. "You look lovely this evening. I'm really happy America saved you, Amanda. You've really surprised me in a good way with what you can do."

"Thank you so much," she says. "I've been having such an incredible time here. Everyone is so nice and the fans are amazing."

"I know, right?" Darren says. "They are really serious about who their favorites are. Blake was telling me how he's already gotten some very disturbing messages about the people he wasn't able to save tonight not to mention his decisions in the battle rounds."

"Really?" I ask. "They do realize that not everyone can win, right?"

"Of course they do," Darren replies. "They're just very, very serious about who they think should win and if that person gets cut, well, then we're just horrible, awful people that wouldn't recognize talent if it sat on our head."

"That's kinda scary," Amanda says.

"It really is," Darren admits. "Now, ladies, if you will excuse us for a minute, I need to talk to Chris here."

Darren directs us to a corner of the patio that is currently unoccupied and sheltered slightly behind a short, stone wall. The strains of Katy Perry's _Teenage Dream_ filter through the small shrubs and I have a sudden feeling that I'm in some cheesy high school movie.

"You'll probably find all this out tomorrow once you log on to Facebook and Twitter and everything, but I wanted to tell you in person," he says. "You had the highest votes out of everyone from the live show. By a significant amount, too."

"I did?" I whisper.

"You did. And," he continues, "not only that, but your song has reached number twenty-five on the overall iTunes chart."

"Are you serious?" 

"Yup."

"Oh my God!" I shout. I grab Darren and hug him and start jumping up and down like a complete idiot, but I don't care. I have a song on the iTunes charts. Fairly high up that chart, too. This is just amazing.

"You have no idea how amazing you are you, do you?" Darren asks once I've calmed down. 

I sort of shrug in response. I don't really know how to respond to that. "I haven't really had a lot of yes in my life, I guess." We're still clinging to each other and there's something in his eyes that is making my heart race and my stomach flip.

"Well, get used to it," Darren says. "There's a lot more yes coming. You just… You really are incredible. What you did last night with that song, I can't even really put into words. You just… You move me, Chris."

I don't know what to blame for what happens next. If it's the alcohol or the night or the adrenaline, but I'm not sure I really care. All I care about is the fact that Darren is kissing me. His mouth is warm and soft and slightly bitter from the beer he's been drinking. His hands are firm on my waist where he's squeezing just a little bit. My hand flexes in mid-air before landing on his bicep and holding on for dear life. It's… nice. It's really, really nice, actually.

Then there's a loud splash and raucous laughter as it seems someone has fallen into the pool. We pull back and Darren's looking at me like he's a little scared.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I'm so sorry. That was horribly inappropriate of me. I'm sorry."

My stomach drops at his words. Of course, someone like Darren wouldn't be interested in me like that. Why would I ever think that?

"It's okay," I say, my voice a little shaky and take a couple steps back.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine," I lie. "Alcohol can make you do crazy things," I add, trying for a laugh.

"Right," he says, his voice flat and emotionless. "I should go, anyway. More work to do tomorrow. No rest for the wicked and all that."

"Yeah, okay. See you," I say with a wave as he walks off.

Once he's gone, my legs finally give out and I just collapse on the ground. I pull my knees into my chest and breathe as I try to get my emotions under control. A lot has happened tonight and I'm just a little overwhelmed by everything. Once I'm feeling calmer, I head back out to join everyone else. I make a quick stop by the bar to fix myself another drink before searching out Amanda. She's still chatting with Bree, where I left them just a few minutes before. I walk over and try to rejoin their conversation, but my head's not really in it anymore.

"You okay?" Amanda asks during a pause.

"Yeah," I say. "Just… tired, I guess. All that adrenaline seems to be wearing off. I think I'm just gonna head up to bed."

"Alright," she says, pulling me into a hug. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," I tell them both. 

I leave my half drunk margarita on a table and slowly trudge up the stairs to my room. I collapse on top of the covers, still dressed and everything. My mind is just racing and I wish it would shut up so I can go to sleep and put everything behind me. I just don't understand what happened. For one thing, I thought Darren was straight and that he had a girlfriend. So, either he doesn't and he's not so straight, or he does and is and what happened earlier is just a huge mistake all around.

God. This sucks.


	5. Chapter 4

_Welcome to The Voice and the live quarter finals. I'm Carson Daly. These are your coaches: Darren Criss, Mr. Cee Lo Green, the one and only Christina Aguilera, and Blake Shelton._

_Since we went live two weeks ago, the artists have given incredible performances, the coaches have made tough decisions and the last chance performances have taken everyone by surprise._

_Each coach has their final four artists. Tonight Team Blake and Team Darren hit the stage in our first quarter final. Eight artists will compete for America's votes hoping to stay in the competition._

_With only the best artists left, the stakes have never been higher. Every performance tonight could be their last. Who will fight to stay in the competition and win the grand prize: a recording contract with Universal Republic Records and the chance to become music's next superstar and be named The Voice._

* * *

The next morning, we're whisked off way too bright and early after the night before to a local radio station to do some promotional work for the show. Darren is there, somewhat unfortunately. It's always nice to see him, but I was hoping to have a little more time to recover from last night before that had to happen. Luckily, the morning is quite chaotic and with everyone there, there's really no time to get bogged down in thinking about things too much.

The interviews go well enough. We all do our best to push through the haze of our hangovers and tiredness and sound cheerful and positive about what's happened and what's to come. Of course, there is particular attention paid to my performance.

"Now, Chris," the DJ says. "You did something very interesting last night."

"I did," I say hesitantly, unsure of where this is going.

"What was the thought process behind that?"

"Well, it was Darren's suggestion," I say. "We had been rehearsing and the song was sounding good technically, but there was something missing. So, we rehearsed with those changes in the studio and it really did seem to come together at that point. I was nervous, though, about doing that on the show. It certainly wasn't an easy decision. But about a week later when we were on the stage working on the whole production of the number, I thought back to all the advice I had been given and I decided it was just something I had to do."

"I gotta say," Darren adds, patting my knee, "that I was just so proud of him for doing that. It's not an easy thing to come out to even your family and to decide to expose yourself, for lack of a better phrase, to all of America in that way is really brave."

"Amanda said something to me, too, when I was talking about this with her," I continue, resolutely not looking at Darren. "She said that this show is about being the best me that I can be. And that's honestly something I'd been struggling with since coming here. You know, I had other plans for my life, but things get in the way and here I was with this opportunity to do something that could be really amazing. So, I could either seize that opportunity and stand up for myself and those who maybe can't, or I could take the easy way out and sing the song as it had been written. I realized that I didn't want to do that. I came here to push myself and see what it is I can really do and I couldn't do that if I wasn't going to be honest about it."

"Well, congratulations," the DJ says. "It was a really well deserved win."

He talks to the other contestants for a few more minutes, about what, I have no idea. I'm just so overwhelmed by everything right now and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know it's waiting and it's coming and it's going to absolutely suck when it does. But, I'll just deal with it like I've dealt with everything else in my life.

After the interview, we're waiting in the lobby for the van to come back and pick us up. We're all still a little subdued from last night and the early wake-up call this morning and I know I can't wait to get back and down a few more cups of coffee. Ideally, I would love to go back to bed for a few more hours, but I still need to find a song for the next show.

"Hey, guys," Darren says. "I just wanted to give you a little heads up. In addition to your individual performances, we'll all be singing a number together."

That wakes us all up a bit more. Singing with Darren? That's going to be amazing.

"What are we singing?" Amanda asks.

"We'll be doing _I Still Think_. The music should be waiting for you when you get back to the house. You'll each have a couple of solo lines to really shine, so make 'em count."

Just then, the van pulls up to take us back and we all shout our thanks at Darren. I take the opportunity of the drive back to just rest my eyes and my brain for a bit. I need to just forget everything's that's happened and focus on what's coming up. Just because America liked me this week, is no guarantee that I'll be sticking around after the next show. 

When we get back to the house, all I want to do is get to work, but sadly there are more interviews. A couple more radio call-ins, some magazines and newspapers and a few websites. Overall, it's a lot of the same thing over and over again. Where did we get the idea, what did I think of it, was I nervous, etc. A few of the journalists allude to some not so positive comments about my performance from conservatives. Which, to be honest, is expected. As sad and stupid as that is, there will always be people that don't like me just because of who I love.

After the last interview, I finally get a chance to check in with The Voice message boards to see what fans are saying. Again, most of the response is positive, but there are those comments that just really piss me off.

_I can't believe NBC would allow something like that on the air. It's despicable and wrong and immoral. Is this really someone we want our children looking up to?_

_Oh, look. It's the token gay. Why does every one of these shows have to have someone like him? First Adam Lambert and now Chris Colfer. Ugh. I'm so disgusted._

I see at least a dozen other messages like that before I just can't take any more.

 _Well, there's the other shoe_ , I think.

I slam my laptop closed and storm out of the room. I want to punch something. But unless I want to be paying for property damage to the house, a run will have to suffice. I change into some workout clothes, grab my iPod and take off for a run around the neighborhood.

I don't know how long I'm gone, but the sun is starting to set by the time I make it back to the house. I'm sweaty and out of breath and tired and I still feel like shit. I make my way out to the backyard and flop down in the shade on the grass. I really don't understand people.

"Hey."

I open my eyes and see Amanda hovering over me.

"Hey."

"Everything okay?"

I shrug noncommittally. 

"I just… I really fucking hate people, sometimes," I finally say.

"I take it this is about those idiotic comments by some of the viewers about your performance?" she asks taking a seat next to me.

"Yeah," I say. "I don't know why it still bothers me so much. I mean, I dealt with this kind of thing all through high school, even before I knew what a 'fag' was and why everyone was calling me that. I just don't understand why people still think that being gay is a choice. Why, yes. I would love to be persecuted and ridiculed and bullied and beat up and maybe even killed just because of my 'choice' in romantic partners. That sounds like a wonderful way to live."

"I can't even pretend to understand what that's like," she says. "But things do seem to be getting a little better, don't they? I mean, every day it seems there are more states passing laws in support of gay marriage."

"I know. But at the same time, why should a law have to be passed that allows me a basic right that every straight person doesn’t even have to think twice about? It just sucks."

"Yeah. It does."

We sit there in silence for a few more minutes before I decide I really should shower if I want to not offend the olfactory senses of all my housemates at dinner. Which, oh yeah, we have new housemates. With the teams being so much smaller than before, Team Blake has moved in. It's nice. Paul is my new roommate and he's just really awesome, very laid back and chill. He's a good counterpoint to my usual craziness and we balance each other out well.

I dock my iPod into the station that's set up in the bathroom and flip back to this one song that had popped up during my run. I don't know if it's just because I'm so mad at all those ignorant comments, but I can't stop thinking about it. I even start to see some staging take shape. It's going to involve dancing, for sure, which causes some hesitation, but I think it's perfect. It continues what I started this past week, but in a completely different manner. In a way, it's a very subtle telling off of everyone that's "disgusted" with me right now.

I think this might just be the song I need.

* * *

Amanda corners me after dinner and drags me off to her room. "So, I wanted to ask you earlier, but you were all angsty and shit, so it didn't seem like a good time, but what happened last night?" she asks as soon as her door is shut.

"What do you mean?" I ask, pretending that I have no idea what she's talking about.

"Oh, come on," she says, lightly slapping my arm. "After Darren dragged you away from us. You snuck off to some corner of the patio, then like ten minutes later, he ran out without saying good-bye to anyone and, well, you weren't exactly Mister Sunshine And Rainbows after that chat. And I swear, you could cut the tension between you two with a knife this morning. So, what happened?"

"Oh, that," I say, trying to stall. "He was just telling me some stuff about how the voting had broken down and all that. You know, show stuff."

"Was it… was it not good?" she asked hesitantly.

"Um, quite the opposite, actually," I say with a laugh. "Turns out I had the highest votes out of everyone."

"Chris!" she exclaims and pulls me into a hug. "That's great! That's amazing, really. So, why do you look like someone stepped on your kitten?"

Should I tell her? I think I can trust her not to say anything to anyone else, but it is kind of a big deal. I'm not even sure how I feel about what happened, anyway.

"It's, um, well, he… After he had told me about the votes and everything, he, well, he kissed me."

"What?" she yells and immediately claps her hand over her mouth. "What?" she says again in a whisper.

I just kind of shrug in response, unsure of what exactly else to say.

"Oh, my God," she continues. "What was it like? Was it nice? Did you kiss him back?"

"Amanda! I'm not going to tell you that!"

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

"You can take that however you want," I say, biting my lips to hide a smile.

"Oh my God!" she squeals. "This is so exciting! Are you going to do anything?"

"How can we?" I reply. "Even if I wanted to, I'm still on the show. I'm sure that would be a huge violation of the contract somehow."

"So, you do want to do something?"

"Who wouldn't want to?" I admit. "It's _Darren Criss_. But there is no way I'm going to do anything to ruin my chances of winning this thing. So, you can't tell anyone, Amanda. Swear it."

"I swear," she says, crossing her heart. 

"Ugh," I groan, dropping my head into my hands. Now that I've told someone about it, the full weight of what happened hits me. "What am I going to do?" About Darren. About the show. About me.

Amanda sits down next to me on the bed and takes my hand in hers. "Here's what you're going to do," she says. "You are going to go into that studio tomorrow and show Darren that you are fine and amazing and that you deserve the votes you got this week. And Darren is nothing if not a consummate professional. He wouldn't do anything to harm your chances here."

I nod. I know she's right. Of course she is. I just need to make it through this, and everything will be fine.

"Now, on to more pressing issues," Amanda says. "What songs are we doing this week?"

I smile as I tell her what I'm thinking and she agrees that it is a great choice. I'm starting to get really excited about this.

* * *

I meet up with Darren the next day to start rehearsing. I hope he likes my song choice; it's definitely bold, but I feel it's the right thing to do. He greets me warmly, if a little distantly and I show him the sheet music I've chosen.

"Really?" he asks, with a smile. "I think this is great. I had something else entirely in mind, but I love this even more. It's daring, it's exciting, it's something different than what you've done to this point. Nice choice."

"Thanks," I reply. "I was a little nervous to show you this, but I'm glad you like it. It's just… This is also my sister's favorite song and I kinda wanted to do something for her."

"From what you've told me about her, it sounds like you guys are really close."

"Yeah," I admit. "I mean, you know how hard school was for me and even with everything she was going through, she was always there for me. She really is my best friend. But don't tell her; she'll never let me live it down."

"I think it's a little late for that," Darren says, nodding towards the cameras.

"Oh, crap!" I yell exaggeratedly as I run towards the closest camera and try to cover the lens with my hands. The camera man is good, though, and plays along ducking and weaving to get away.

It only lasts a few seconds, but by the time I make it back to the piano, Darren is doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, my God," he wheezes. "That has got to be the funniest thing I've seen in a long time."

"I do try," I tease.

"Anyway," he says after he calms down. "Let's get to work. Make Hannah proud of you."

We work for a couple hours, the film crew moving around the studio to get the shots they'll need for the show.

"I'm guessing you're planning on some sort of choreography to go with this?" Darren asks at one point.

"Yeah. I think it's kind of necessary with this song."

"I would agree. Well, you sound great so far. If there's one thing I think you should concentrate on, it's your enunciation, especially in those spoken word segments. It feels like you're rushing a little bit and once you start dancing around with it, it'll be really easy to get out of breath. Just concentrate on hitting those consonants and that should help."

"Right, okay," I nod. That's the other thing that has me concerned – singing while dancing. This is going to test every skill I have.

Eventually, the producers interrupt us and we move to a slightly more intimate area of the studio where they'll film me and Darren talking about the live performance and everything that's happened so far. It's a little stilted at first, but eventually we get into the flow of things.

"What is it like for you," Darren asks, "knowing how much support you have from the viewers at home?"

"It's, gosh, I mean it's everything," I reply. "To feel that much love coming from people I don't even know is a really incredible gift. The messages I've received about my performance and how much it meant to them is really inspiring. It makes me want to try even harder for them. To win this for them. Suddenly, this is so much bigger than just me winning a singing competition."

"Do you feel an added pressure now to live up to all those expectations?"

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. I mean, I've already gotten a couple messages from kids telling me that after watching my performance with their family that they finally had the courage to come out. It's really incredible to think about."

"It must give you an odd sense of victory knowing how beloved you've become given what you went through in high school."

"You know, it does," I say with a laugh. "I mean, I could say the polite thing and that it doesn't matter. But you know, it does feel great. I had to deal with people telling me every day that I was worthless and nothing and lower than dirt, and here I am. This is quite a bit more than nothing."

"It certainly is," Darren agrees.

We chat for a bit longer before the camera crew leaves. I stand up to follow, thinking we're done when Darren reaches out to me.

"I just… I wanted to apologize for the other night," he says. "It was completely unprofessional of me. Whatever my feelings for you might be, now is not the time to explore them. But, I can promise you that what happened will not affect your standing in any way."

"That's…" I trail off.

Wait. What?

"Wait. What?" I ask.

Did he just say what I think he said? Did he say he had feelings for me? He didn't, right? There's no way Darren could have feelings for me.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" is the only thing I can think to say.

"No," Darren says, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"But you are straight."

"Well…" Darren says.

"How come you've never said anything?" I ask. "You don't really strike me as the kind of guy to willingly stay in the closet."

"It's all show business bullshit," he says, flopping back down onto the couch. "And I'm not gay or straight or whatever. I don't know. I just… I like who I like and gender doesn't really factor into things that much. I mean, yes, most of my serious, long-term relationships have been with girls, but there have been guys, too. But, the label and my managers… I guess it's easier for middle America to relate to someone if you don't muddle about with things like sexuality. It really is all kinds of ridiculous, but to compromise they've let me just sort of not really answer the question either way whenever it gets brought up."

"I'm sorry," I say. "That's gotta be hard. But, who's that girl I always see you with?"

"Oh, she's just a friend from college," Darren waves off. "She's in a band, so I bring her with me and introduce her to people and she helps keep people from asking if I'm dating anyone."

"That just seems a little unfair. For both of you, I mean." I can't even imagine what it must be like to be forced to stay in the closet like that and have to parade around with someone in such a ruse. I guess that's one good thing about my coming out; they can't force me back in.

"It's fine," Darren says. "We both know what's going on; we're not under any delusion about what's happening. Besides, I'm so busy it's not like I even have time to meet anyone. Or so I thought."

The look in his eyes as he looks at me takes my breath away. God. He really means it. I don't quite know what to do with myself or what to say, so I just stand and clear my throat.

"I, um, should we get back to work?" I say.

"Yeah, sure," Darren says.

We head back into the room and start working on _I Still Think_. The hours go quickly and easily and before I know it, our time is up.

"So, I'm going to be getting the choreographer in touch with you. The production for this song will definitely need to be more amped up than last time."

"Right," I say with a tight smile.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. A little overwhelmed, I guess," gesturing between the two of us and hoping he understands what I mean.

"No pressure," he says. "About anything. Well, some about your performance."

I chuckle in response and relax as Darren pulls me into a hug. I know he means what he's said, about his feelings, about not pressuring me. 

Now I just need to figure out what I really want.

* * *

That night after dinner, I lock myself away to try and wrap my head around everything that's happened.

I was sure that Darren was going to apologize again and say that he had made a horrible mistake and he had a girlfriend and that would be that. But it wasn't. He apparently had real feelings for me. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined something like this happening. It just really sucks that this is all happening now when we can't do anything about it.

But I won't be here forever. There's only 3 more weeks until the finale when the winner is announced. If this relationship is something that we want to pursue, there's no reason we can't wait.

I suppose that's the big question, though. Do I want this?

* * *

The next two weeks are some of the most intense weeks I have ever been through. There's choreography for at least two hours a day, more promotional work, rehearsing with Darren and the rest of the team for the group number. I'm so busy and so exhausted that I don't even have time to think about what might happen with Darren. 

The night before the live shows, Amanda and I are sitting out by the pool, finally relaxing for the first time in what feels like forever. We're sipping on our drinks and swishing our feet through the water. It's nice to just have a moment of peace like this.

"So, how's your song coming?" I ask.

"It's good," she says. "We've got some good atmosphere going with the staging. I guess I'm just a little worried because it's different and not the usual arrangement people are going to think when they hear the name of the song. I just hope I can get the audience on my side."

"Of course, you will," I say. "You are so talented and you are going to blow everyone's mind. The arrangement you and Darren have come up with is genius. If I could vote, you would be getting all of mine."

"Thanks," she says, knocking her shoulder into mine. "And how is your dancing come along, Mr. Colfer?"

"Ugh. Don't ask," I moan. "I mean, it's okay, I think. I'm just really not used to this kind of choreography. It's really hard. I think I just need to accept the fact that I'm not going to be perfect and do the best that I can."

"That's all anyone can ask, but I wouldn't worry too much. You'll be great," she insists. "Christina is going to eat it up. You know how much she loves that kind of stuff."

"As long as I don't fall on my ass walking down those stairs," I joke.

"Oh, shut up," she says shoving at my shoulder again.

Unfortunately, I had been leaning over to set my empty glass down, so my balance was off resulting in me falling into the pool. I come up spluttering, completely soaked. I shake the water out of my eyes and look over to see Amanda laughing so hard tears are streaming down her face.

"You suck!" I shout.

"I'm so-sorry," she says between laughs. "That was totally an accident. I swear, I didn't mean to do that."

"That really doesn't make this situation any better for me."

Before she even has time to think, I reach and grab her ankle, pulling her into the pool with me.

"Oh, my God!" she yells when she surfaces. "I hate you, Colfer." She sprays some water in my direction and I just swim over to the side, hanging on for a minute.

"No, you don't," I say.

"I know," she says, joining me. "You're just too adorable to hate. That's why you're going to win this, you know."

"Pfft. Yeah, right. You got that whole sexy, piano player thing going on that people love."

"You think I'm sexy? Are you sure you're gay?"

"Hey. I'm gay, not blind," I insist. "But, seriously. You are so amazingly talented, Amanda. If you don't make it to the finals, then there is something wrong with America."

"Thank you," she says. "I wish we could both make it. But I promise that if I make it, I'm bringing you back to sing with me on the final results show."

"Same for me."

She holds up her pinkie and we seal our promise. I'm really going to miss her when I get eliminated.

* * *

Dress rehearsal on the morning of the show is an absolute disaster. My timing is all off, I'm tripping over my own feet, I almost run into the other dancers on several occasions and I sound like crap. I don't know what happened to my pitch; I'm guessing it decided to sleep in. I hope it wakes up in time for the show.

"Chris," Darren says. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." I just collapse on the edge of the stage and take the bottle of water he offers. "My head is just… I don't know. It's not _here_ and I don't know where it went and I want it back."

My voice is wavering by the time I'm done and I'm so close to crying because this is it. I am choking. I am going to lose and this is ridiculous because I don't even belong here. I should just quit while I'm ahead.

"Listen to me," Darren says, crouching down so we're at eye level. "Do you remember why you told me you were here? That you wanted out of Clovis? Well, this is it. But I need you here. You can do this, okay? I believe in you. I just need you to believe in you, too."

I nod because I don't trust my voice right now. Which, you know, is ironic considering what I'm here to do. 

"Okay," Darren says standing up. "Why don't you head backstage and get yourself back together. You've got about an hour until the group rehearsal and six hours until show time, so just try to relax. You'll be great."

I give him a tight smile and head off to try and find myself or something. This is ridiculous. I know I'm better than this, I do. I don't want to go back to Clovis. I can't go back. I am done with that Podunk town and all the small minded people. Well, maybe things won't be too bad. In theater they say that a bad dress leads to a great opening because everything that could go wrong already has. I just pray that the same thing holds true in this situation. If not, I am screwed.

Luckily, the rehearsal for our group number with Darren goes much better. We're all on our marks and the harmonies that Darren worked out sound amazing. I'm really, really excited for this part of the show.

After the group rehearsal, I just zone out while I go through what I need to with the stylists. Steven arranges my hair into a sexy, bedhead disheveled style and Julie decides I need a little eyeliner to finish everything off. Then I get dressed in the world's tightest pair of jeans and white t-shirt before I find a dark corner to sequester myself away from everyone for a few minutes. I need to calm down before I psych myself out completely and blow it all. 

"You need to stop thinking so much."

I look up and, of course, it's Amanda.

"How do you always manage to find me?" I ask.

"Because I know you, Colfer," she replies, sitting down next to me. "I saw your disastrous rehearsal and figured you would have locked yourself away from everyone else."

"Yeah, well. I think I have a good reason to be hiding right now."

"Are you really going to do this? You're just going to sit there and give up and not even try?"

I just shrug. At this point, it seems pretty useless.

"Then you're not the guy I thought you were," she says standing up. "Have fun back in Clovis."

"What? That's it?" I say sarcastically. "You're not gonna try and talk me out of it?"

"What would be the point? You've already made up your mind that you don't belong here, so you're doing whatever you can to sabotage yourself. I don't think there's much I can do to change your mind."

"Some friend you are," I mutter.

"Hey. Don't take this out on me. Have you really already forgotten what happened last time? Have you forgotten the record number of votes you got for that performance? If you want to go out there and prove all your naysayers right and fall flat on your ass, that's your choice. I just thought you were better than that."

She stalks away before I can say anything else and… She's right. She is. I am the only one to blame for what's happening. And it's completely ridiculous. I've already proven myself; I have the support of so many people now that to fail at this point would just be awful. 

_Right, Colfer,_ I think to myself. _Time to get your shit together and go out there and show everyone that you deserve their votes and respect. I can do this. I **will** do this._

I make my way back to the green room where we're all gathered, waiting for the show to start. I catch Amanda's eye as I enter and give her a nod. She smiles back and resumes her conversation with Bree. I'm really glad she's on my side.

* * *

There's just about a half hour left to the show, when a couple of the producers come find us. We all gather around for the usual pre-show encouragement speech, but tonight it goes a little differently.

There's a twist.

I hate twists. Twists are never good. They are always horrible, awful things.

Apparently, this week, instead of America's votes keeping two people safe, only one person would be. That's because at the end of tonight's show, our coach would be eliminating one of us from the competition on the spot. Tomorrow night, the person with the most votes on each team would be safe and the bottom two would go head to head in the Last Chance Competition for our coach to save only one of us.

Awesome.

But before I can think about it too much, I'm dragged off to take my place and open the show. I wait just off stage for my cue to scramble up the huge set of stairs at the back of the stage and get set. Once Carson throws to my pre-show interview that, thankfully, had been done before the rehearsal, the lights go out and I hurry to my spot. Instead of tuning myself out like I usually do, I listen to what I had said earlier.

"It's really humbling to see the support that's poured in since my last performance," I say. "I've been touched by so many amazing stories by kids who are much braver than I ever was. It's been really special. So, tonight's performance is for them. And my sister. This is sort of our song and I wanted to do something for her. She's a really amazing person. You know, for a little sister."

There's a little chuckle from the audience at that and then Carson is introducing me.

"Here with Lady Gaga's [_Born This Way_](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkTPcj_b6Oo), this is Chris Colfer."

The music starts, the backlight illuminates my silhouette and I put everything I have into this.

_It doesn't matter if you love him  
Or capital H-I-M.  
Just put your paws up  
'Cause you were born this way, baby_

The lights come up, lasers flash and dancers pour in from the audience. Everyone is on their feet, clapping and dancing. I stalk down the stairs as I take my place at the front of the crowd.

_My mama told me when I was young  
We are all born superstars  
She rolled my hair and put my lipstick on  
In the glass of her boudoir_

I am so on, it's like the earlier catastrophe never even happened. It's not perfect, but it was never going to be. It doesn’t matter though; I'm hitting my mark, the moves are flowing and this is exhilarating. I look over and see Darren smiling so hard, he looks like he's about to burst. He's clapping and singing along and I know that no matter what else happens, I am not going home tonight.

I get to the last chorus and I face out to the audience, jumping and clapping along with everyone.

_I was born this way hey!  
I was born this way hey!  
I'm on the right track baby  
I was born this way hey!_

I am completely out of breath as I stand center stage, one arm raised in triumph, but nothing can break my smile. This is what I came here to do; this is why I'm here.

"Chris Colfer!" Carson yells over the crowd as he joins me on stage.

I move over to stand by him and bend over with my hands on my knees. I really, really need to catch my breath. Luckily, I have some time as the audience is going _crazy_ and it's hard to hear anything. Once it quiets down a bit, Carson starts my review with Christina.

"Now that was a show," she says. "That was high energy and fun and a really wonderful way to kick off the show. Nice job."

"Thank you," I manage to wheeze. 

"Blake," Carson says.

"I mean, yeah. You had me dancing my seat and clapping along. You know, personally, that's just not my favorite genre of music," he adds, which is fair, "but I thought you sounded great. Good job."

"And Darren. What do you think of Chris' performance?"

"I'm just so happy right now," Darren says. "I know you had a rough rehearsal, but when you get it right, you really get it right. I think this might be my favorite performance that I've seen in this whole competition."

"Wow. Thank you so much," I say.

Carson gives out the number to call to vote for me and I rush off stage to get ready for our group number. Amanda is waiting for me in the hall as soon as I'm off the stage, just standing there with her arms crossed and a smirk on your face.

"Okay, fine," I say. "You were right. Happy?"

"Yup," she says and then turns on her heel to join the others. 

God, I hate her.

* * *

Charlie is the next of our team to perform and it is just a mess. For some reason, he had decided to do [_Time After Time_](http://youtu.be/VdQY7BusJNU) and it is just a really bad choice. His voice is too gritty and harsh to try and pull off something like that. His pitch is just all over the place and it's pretty clear that, unless someone else messes up worse, he's going home tonight.

The group number goes well enough. Charlie is back on his game and our harmonies are perfect. Robert and Amanda rush off to get ready for their solo numbers and Charlie and I are left to chat with fans and the other contestants in the green room. I take my place at one of the monitors and I see that, well, I'm trending on Twitter. There's my name, Chris Colfer, up there on the screen.

Holy shit.

"You believe me now?"

I look over, intending to snark back at Amanda but am immediately struck speechless when I see her. 

"Damn, girl," I say. "You look fabulous."

She blushes and swats at my arm, but it's true. The stylists have fitted her with a sequined tuxedo jacket complete with tails, a white satin vest and black satin short-shorts, a crystal necklace shaped like a man's necktie, fishnets and glittery heels that look so dangerous I have no idea how she can walk without falling down. Her hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail and she's got this amazing cat-eye make-up. She is going to kill _everyone_.

We spend the time waiting for her to close things out with our team by chatting with some fans and photobombing some of the interviews Christina Milian is conducting. We're such children, sometimes, but it stops me thinking about what's coming up. When she heads off to the stage, I glue myself to one of the TVs. I hadn't watched her dress rehearsal since I was too busy moping, but going by her costume, I'm really curious as to what's going to happen on stage.

"Here with [_Kings and Queens_](http://youtu.be/aDJ0C_-_hAo) is Amanda Crawford!" Carson introduces.

As the song starts of quietly with some piano chords, a spotlight illuminates her at the piano, the sequins on her coat glinting into the crowd. As soon as the drums come in, the entire stage is illuminated and there is a full orchestra and gospel choir surrounding her on that stage. It's breathtaking. I'm pretty sure she just yanked the rug out from everyone.

* * *

A short ten minutes later, the show is back from the final commercial break and we're all gathered on stage for the coaches' decisions. Carson starts with Darren, at least, so I don't have to wait any longer than I would want.

"You're all amazing artists," Darren says. "I know you'll all move on to do amazing things. I hate doing this, I really do. But, going by what happened on stage tonight, I have to send Charlie home."

We all knew that was going to happen. Charlie doesn't even seem too upset about it. We all wish him luck and watch as Blake sends Laura home. He really had a tough decision as everyone on his team had done an outstanding job.

Now all that's left to do is rehearse for my last chance sing-off tomorrow and hope I do better than Robert.

* * *

Rehearsal is always weird without Darren. We've all come to rely on him and his critiques so much, it's hard to know if I'm really hitting everything right or not. Amanda and Robert's advice is good and helpful, but still not what I'm used to getting.

After a performance by Florence + The Machine, Amanda, Robert and I are called to the stage with Carson, waiting to hear our fate. I think we all know how the results for our team are going to turn out, but it's still nerve-wracking having to wait so long.

"After tallying the record number of votes that were received this week," Carson starts, "the member of Team Darren that America has saved is…. Amanda Crawford!"

I don't know why she looks so shocked; she was a lock after her performance. We all hug briefly and then Robert and I are ushered off stage to get ready for our performances. We're already in our outfits, so it's just a matter of finishing warming up and getting into the right headspace for the show. 

In all honesty, though, I'm pretty excited for my song. It's by my favorite band and I wish more people knew them. At the very least, this might get some more people excited about them. The staging and choreography we set up is high energy and fun; there's flashing lights and a disco ball and they've even got the floor in on the act. It's gonna be good. There's also an odd sense of irony to this particular song with all the dancing I had to do last night.

"Up first for Team Darren," Carson says, "we have the 21 year old who continues to amaze the judges with his powerful voice every week, singing [_I Don't Feel Like Dancing_](http://youtu.be/4H5I6y1Qvz0), here is Chris Colfer!" 

The song starts and I start clapping, encouraging the audience to join in and get things started right.

_Wake up in the morning with a head like ‘what ya done?’  
This used to be the life but I don’t need another one.  
You like cuttin’ up and carrying on, you wear them gowns.  
So how come I feel so lonely when you’re up getting down?_

I sneak a look down at the judges and see them all smiling and bopping their heads along to the beat. I put everything I have into what I'm doing. As long as I do my best, I can't really complain if I should be eliminated. I know Robert is going to be amazing, but I can't think about trying to beat him, or sing better than him. We're too different. So, I do what I came here to do and sing my heart out.

I get to the final chorus and plant myself center stage and give them everything I have.

_Don’t feel like dancin’, dancin’  
Even if I find nothin' better to do  
Don’t feel like dancin’, dancin’  
Why’d you break it down when I’m not in the mood?  
Don’t feel like dancin’, dancin’  
I'd rather be home with the one in the bed till dawn, with you_

After reviews by the judges which are mostly positive, but not glowing, I head off stage and watch Robert as he sings a beautiful rendition of [_Hallelujah_](http://youtu.be/LQK4YfiPj1Q). He's so calm and peaceful and so solid, I know I'm in trouble. I watch Darren and at one point I see him surreptitiously wipe his eyes.

Shit.

But you know, that's okay. I did my best; I did some really amazing things and met some fantastic people. Maybe got a boyfriend out of all this. Who knows?

After a short commercial break, we're back live and it's time.

"I'm here with Chris Colfer and Robert Lee of Team Darren," Carson says. "It is time to find out which artist Darren will take to the semi-finals and who is going home. But first, let's hear from the other coaches. Blake, let's start with you. If this was your team, who would you save and why?"

"I mean, they're both so different," Blake says. "It's hard to decide. Chris, you know, is just an absolute amazement to me. Each week you've come out here and basically punched me in the face with your vocals. Your range is incredible and I can say that I have honestly become a fan of yours."

I'm slightly shocked at Blake's words. We haven't really spent much time together, but hearing him say something like that is really touching.

"And then you have Robert who is a consummate professional," he continues. "You know what your strengths and your weaknesses are and what it is you need to do to perform your best. Is it maybe not as exciting as what Chris has shown us? Sure. But it's not bad or wrong. It's just different. But, I think I would have to go with Chris."

"All right, thank you," Carson says. "Christina."

"I'm going to have to go with Robert on this one," she says. "Chris, I think you're amazing and a wonderful performer, but you haven't really been as consistent for me as Robert has been."

"And Cee Lo?"

"I have to go with Chris," Cee Lo says. "Every week when I know you're performing, I just can't wait to see what it is you're going to do."

"And finally," Carson says. "Darren. This is it. Who is going to join Amanda in the semi-finals?"

"First," Darren starts, "I just need to say what a privilege it's been for me to work with both of you. You guys have taught me so much about what it means to be an artist and a performer. I hate that I have to be the one to make this decision because I've come to admire and respect both of you so much. Robert, you are so solid and so consistent and I know every week that when you're up on that stage we are going to get a top-notch performance. And Chris, I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it."

He pauses as the audience applauds and I know I'm going home. I'm not as strong vocally as Robert is and that's what this show is about.

"You're a very exciting performer," Darren continues once the audience dies down, "and I like that. I like being excited and a little nervous. So, I'm going to have to save Chris."

What? Did he just say what I think he said? He must have because Robert is hugging me and whispering his congratulations. I am in absolute shock. I honestly can't believe that just happened. I am then ushered off stage where I first run into Amanda. She pulls me in for a hug and I just collapse against her. I start sobbing and I don't know why. I made it. I'm still here. I should be happy.

"Hey," she says, pulling back a bit and cupping my face in her hands. I notice she's crying, too. I guess it's just that kind of night.

"I can't believe it," I whisper.

"I know. Top two, huh? Whodathunkit? I think there's a couple more people that want to say hello." She nods to her left and I look over and see my family standing there.

I rush over and latch onto my mom. I'm so, so happy they're here and they get to experience this with me.

"Sweetie," she croons. "You were just so amazing. I always knew you had this in you. I'm so, so proud of you."

"Thanks, mom," I reply.

"That was just… really something else," my dad says. "I always knew Darren was a smart guy."

I laugh a little and smile. My dad always did have a way with words.

"So, I'm like the most amazing person ever?"

I look over to see Hannah smirking at me.

"I knew that would come back to haunt me," I groan. 

"Oh, don't worry. I already know how awesome I am," she says. "It's just nice to finally hear you acknowledge it."

I roll my eyes, but pull her into a hug. Yeah, she can be a pain in the ass, but she's _my_ pain in the ass.


	6. Chapter 5

_Welcome to The Voice, the live Semi-Finals. I'm Carson Daly; say hi to your coaches: Darren Criss, Mr. Cee Lo Green, the one and only Christina Aguilera and Blake Shelton!_

_It is an absolute pressure packed night on The Voice and the biggest show so far this season. Weeks of Blind Auditions, Battle Rounds, intense preparation and incredible live performances lead us to tonight._

_Here's what's gonna happen: all eight semi-finalists will sing and at the end of the show, their coaches will make a very difficult decision and give them scores based on tonight's performances. Then you at home will vote. Your votes plus our coaches' scores will determine which four artists move on to the finals next week and which four go home._

_It is a night packed with incredible performances including one from our very own Blake Shelton. But first let's take a look at what has brought us to this critical point in the competition._

_Tonight, on The Voice Semi-Finals, each coach is down to their final two singers. All four coaches' artists will take the stage for their most important performance yet. It'll be our most explosive night yet as you help decide which four artists will compete in the finals and which four go home._

_The Semi-Finals start right now on The Voice!_

* * *

"I've been thinking," Amanda says on our way home from the results show.

"Uh oh," I reply.

"Oh, stop it. No, seriously. Just shut up and listen, okay?"

I nod and mime zipping my lips shut.

"When all of this is done and over, I've decided that I'm staying here in LA and something tells me you're not terribly eager to get back to Clovis. So, I think we should go apartment hunting."

"You want me to live with you?" I ask to make sure I'm understanding what she's saying

"Yeah," she says. "I've been doing some research, and you know LA isn't cheap, so it'll be much easier to find a decent place to live if there's two of us splitting the bill. What do you think?"

I take moment to consider her proposition. She's right about one thing – there's no way I'm going back to Clovis after this. I've seen too much, changed too much, to even think about fitting back in a place like that. And it would be nice to not be alone here. I know I've only seen a tiny part of what LA has to offer and it could be fun getting to explore the rest of it with a friend.

"You know what?" I say. "Let's do it."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Yay!" she yells, leaning over to hug me awkwardly around the seatbelt. "This is going to be the best."

Somehow, I don't doubt it will be.

* * *

The next morning, there's still something bothering me about what happened last night, so I call Darren to see if he might be free to stop by for a little chat. Luckily, he agrees to come by after lunch.

I spend most of the morning pacing around my room, iPod on full blast, trying to find a song for the next show. I need something that will really let me show the audience who I am and who I've become. I'd love to do another Broadway number since that's what introduced me to America, but everything I can think of is just too obvious and cliché. 

I make a simple sandwich for lunch and eat it by myself out on the patio. I seem to be giving off sufficient "leave me alone" vibes because even Amanda is keeping her distance. I clean up and head into the music room to wait for Darren. I really don't want to have this conversation, but I need to know. 

I need to know that I'm still here for the right reason.

"Hey, Chris!" Darren calls when he arrives.

"Hey," I say tightly.

Darren must pick up on my mood immediately because he immediately asks me what's wrong. I decide that there's really no reason to beat around the bush.

"It's about last night," I say sitting down on the piano bench. He sits down on the small couch opposite me and waits. "During the last chance performance, it seemed clear to me that Robert gave a much better performance than I did. I just… I need to know that you saved me for the right reason."

"Right, okay," Darren says. "I mean, yeah, if you want to look at it on a strictly technical level, is Robert a better singer than you? Probably. But, that's not all there is to this competition. For me, The Voice isn't just about finding someone who can sing perfectly; it's about finding someone who has something to say. What you have to say is very interesting to me."

"Okay," I say. "That's… that's good to know. Thank you."

"You're welcome. So, since I'm here, should we discuss what you're going to do next?"

"That would be great, actually. I've been drawing a complete blank."

"Have you had any ideas at all?"

"I think I'd like to go back to Broadway for this one. You know, that's what got me on the show and I've done pretty much everything else since then. But, everything that immediately comes to mind is just so overdone by this point."

"Okay. So, getting back to what The Voice could mean, what do you want to say with this song?"

"That I've changed. I've grown and learned so much about who I am, there's no way I could go back to being who I was and I don't want to. What's happened in the past will always be part of who I am because it did shape me in some ways, but I won't let that affect what I will or won't do anymore."

Darren sits there nodding and thinking for a few minutes. "I think… yeah," he finally says. "I know what song you need to sing. I'll send you the sheet music and a copy of the song this afternoon. It'll be perfect."

"I will trust your judgment on this one," I say.

"You won't regret it," he says with a smile. 

I sit there just smiling dumbly back at him for a minute. That tension is back and there's an almost physical pull to get closer to him. But, no. Now is not the time for that. It can't be.

"Right, okay," he says finally breaking eye contact. "I'm gonna head out and get that stuff together for you. Give me a call when you've gone through it and let me know what you think."

He's up and off before I can even reply and I know I have some really serious thinking to do.

* * *

I decide that the best way to try and work this all out is to go for a run. I change into sweats, grab my iPod and head out for a jog around the neighborhood. There's a park not too far away, so I start in that direction.

I make a list in my head as I run of all the points I need to consider.

1) Darren has real feelings for me. That kiss may have been spurred on by alcohol, but the feelings were there regardless of his intoxication level that night.  
2) He's Darren Criss.  
3) I have had a crush on Darren since that spotlight first lit up a college stage on YouTube.  
4) He's _Darren Criss_.  
5) He's a genuinely nice guy and I can honestly say he's one of my closest friends.  
6) He's **_Darren Criss_**.  
7) Trying to have any kind of relationship at this point would be very bad for both of us in terms of the show. We'd probably both be kicked off and that would ruin his career. There's no way I could risk that.  
8) He's DARREN CRISS.  
9) If we do give this a try and it doesn't work out, well, that would just be awful.  
10) He's **DARREN CRISS**.  
11) Technically, he's still in the closet. What's going to happen once it gets out he's dating me?

By the time I make it back home, I think I've figured out what I need to do. Now, how, and when, do I tell Darren?

* * *

After cleaning up from my run, I check my email and see that I do indeed of a message from Darren. I download the song and sheet music file. As soon as the song starts playing I have to laugh. It is absolutely _perfect_. I don't know why I didn't think of it myself, but it is exactly what I need. It's also probably going to require more dancing. 

Awesome. 

That's okay, though. I can do this; no more defeatist thinking for me.

I shoot Darren a quick reply that I am on board with this song and get started working. I have a lot to do before we're in the studio tomorrow.

* * *

I get to the studio bright and early the next morning, eager to work on my song. I'm also nervous, though because I know I need to talk to Darren about what I decided last night. I hope he understands why I have to tell him what I'm going to tell him. I think he will. He doesn't really seem like the kind of guy that would hold a grudge for whatever reason.

When I walk into the studio, I have to stop myself from sighing at how good Darren looks. He's wearing his glasses today and this bright pink plaid shirt that should look absolutely ridiculous, but just… doesn't. He looks amazing. As always. It's just really not fair. Darren greets me in his usual fashion with a tight hug and we get to work.

"First things first," he says. "In addition to your solo performance, you and Amanda will be singing with Team Blake."

"Oh! Interesting," I reply. "What song are we doing?"

"You guys will be doing [_We Are Young_](http://youtu.be/Sv6dMFF_yts) by fun.."

"Awesome! I love that song. It's just so catchy."

"Indeed it is," Darren agrees. "Ready to get to work?"

"Let's do this."

We start with my individual performance, since that's what the producers need footage of to edit together for my little intro video. We do the same thing we've been doing this whole time: go through the song once in its entirety and then start breaking it down into the key components.

"Come on, Chris," Darren needles after I botch the last note again. 

"I'm sorry," I whine back. "But it's a freaking high G! Excuse me if it takes me a couple tries to get it right."

"You can hit a high F, right? So, what's the problem?"

I know he's not being mean on purpose and he's just pushing me to do my best, but it still grates just a tiny bit.

"All right," I say, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. "Give me the intro to that last chorus again."

I close my eyes as the music starts; I don't need to read the words or the notes, I know what they are. I put myself into the headspace I know I'll need to make it through this performance. This song is going to take everything I have to give, not just physically, but emotionally. No, it's not some grand sweeping ballad, but that doesn’t mean it's still not a very emotional song for me. It is. So, I dig down deep and call on every reserve of strength and determination I have.

And this time, I nail the note.

"Yes!" Darren cries when it's over. "I knew you could do it."

"Yeah, yeah," I reply dryly. "You're so smart. You're the most brilliant man who ever lived." 

"Well, obviously," Darren says with a smile. "Let's go one more time."

We run through it all again after which, the production crew leaves us alone. We start working on the group song for a bit, though most of that work will be done with the rest of the team once we move to the stage.

"Lunch?" Darren says after another hour or so.

My stomach rumbles right on cue. "I think I could eat," I laugh.

We head down the block to a diner on the corner and I ask Darren if he wouldn't mind getting our order to go so we could eat in private. We might as well get this discussion over with now and I'd much rather do it not in public. He agrees nervously and I can only try and smile to reassure him.

We take our burgers and Darren's chocolate shake back to the studio. We make idle small talk while we eat. My mind is racing at a million miles an hour with what it is I need to say. Once all the food is finished, Darren takes both our Styrofoam containers and tosses them away before rejoining me on the small couch.

"So," he says. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Um, well, us, I guess," I say. "Or at least the possibility of us."

"Okay."

"I guess there is one question I had before I say anything else. You mentioned before that you're still sort of technically in the closet, so what's going to happen when it gets out that you're dating a guy?"

Darren furrows his brow as he ponders my question. Has he really not thought about this? I mean, it's kind of a big deal. I think we all wish it wasn't, but it is.

"Well, my managers know it's a possibility, so it shouldn't be too much of a shock. As for the fans, well, if something as trivial as who I date makes them not like my music, then they're not really fans," he says.

"I just don't want to be responsible for ruining your career," I say.

"You wouldn't," he insists.

I nod and pause to try and figure out how exactly to say what I need to at this point.

"Okay. Well, all things considered, I just… I don't think I can," I say.

"Oh," Darren says and I watch as his face falls. "Right, okay. That's… that's fine. I had to try, you know?"

"No!" I exclaim as I realize what he thinks I said. "No, that's not… Crap, that didn't come out right. I mean, right now. I can't _right now_. Just with the show and everything going on, it would be too much and I just really need to focus on what I'm doing and if I add you into the equation it just becomes, like, graduate-level calculus and I am nowhere near ready for that."

"So, after the show is over and our contracts are all expired and you're free to do whatever…?" Darren asks.

"Then, if you still want to, I think I would like to give us a try," I say with a smile.

Darren immediately leans in and grabs me in a tight hug.

"Thank you," he says. "Thank you. That's all that I wanted, really. I know I kind of sprang everything on you out of nowhere, so just the fact that you actually thought about this and didn't just write me off as an idiot is fantastic."

"You're not idiot," I insist. "Kind of a dork sometimes, but never an idiot."

"Well, thanks," Darren says. "You know, when all this is over, I'm going to take you to dinner and show you the town."

"Why, Mr. Criss, are you asking me out on a date?" I tease.

"I am," he says seriously.

"Oh. I… I would like that."

"Good."

We sit there, just smiling at each other. I kind of can't believe this is happening. Darren Criss wants to date me. I want to date him. We could be boyfriends.

I'm jerked out of my thoughts by the feel of Darren's hand coming to rest on mine where it rests on the cushion. I look down and see his honey-tan skin resting neatly against my own milk-white paleness. The stark contrast is a bit jarring, but one I think I could get used to. I slowly turn my hand over so ours are resting palm to palm and gently curl my fingers in, afraid that I might scare him away with the smallest movement. But I look back up at Darren and just see that his smile has grown infinitely wider and he curls his fingers around my hand in return. The simple gesture causes my heart to race. 

Darren is the only guy who isn't related to me that has touched me in a non-violent way. I hate having to admit that, even to myself, but it's the truth. It's why his easy affection has always been slightly jarring to me. I keep waiting for him to reach out with a fist instead of an open hand.

"Hey," Darren says, reaching out and touching my cheek. It's then I realize that I've been crying. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head and take a deep breath. I squeeze his hand and relish in the feeling of him squeezing back.

"I just… I never thought I'd get to have this," I say.

"You do," Darren says. "I think it's finally your time, huh?"

"Yeah," I agree. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

By the time I get home, I'm so happy that I barely feel my feet touching the ground. I can't stop smiling and I don't want to. Today has been the best day. Darren and I worked some more after our chat and we came up with what I think is a brilliant idea for the staging of my song. We're going to set it all up like it's an old 1950s or '60s variety show performance. Like something you would have seen on The Ed Sullivan Show or Johnny Carson back in the day. I love it. It's absolutely brilliant. It also means any choreography is probably going to be minimal. Yay.

I'm sort of drifting through the house, picking up a bottle of water from the kitchen, a magazine someone left out on a table in the living room, before I finally find myself in the media room and just plop down on one of the luxurious chairs and idly flip through the Entertainment Weekly.

I hear someone drop into the chair next to me and know it's Amanda without even looking up. I proceed to ignore her just to see what she's going to do.

That was apparently a bad idea because she proceeds to wet-willy me.

"Hey!" I yell swatting her hand away. I rub at my ear trying to get her spit out. "That's so gross. You're a disgusting human being."

"Just pay attention to me and you won't have to incur my wrath. I thought I'd taught you better by now, Colfer."

"Well, I've definitely learned my lesson," I mutter. Ugh. Why aren't there Kleenex around anywhere when you really need one?

"I just wanted to know what's got you so happy? You don't smile nearly enough, so it better be something good."

"Oh, you know, just a really good rehearsal," I say, trying and failing to keep the smile off my face.

"Oh! Did something happen with Darren? Did you finally give in to your animal attraction and jump his bones?"

"Amanda! Stop being so crude. No, god, nothing like that."

"Well, what? _Something_ more than just a good rehearsal went on today. I know the signs."

"Fine," I sigh. "But you are still bound by the absolute laws of best-friendship to not reveal anything I am about to tell you."

"I'm your best friend?" she asks, sitting up straighter in her chair.

"Yeah," I admit. "Kinda pathetic, huh?"

"No!" she cries, pulling me into a hug. Jeesh. People are really huggy today. "No, that's great. You're totally my best friend, too."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says. "I really do love you something awful, Chris Colfer."

"I love you, too."

We hold each other for a moment and it just sinks in just how much I've been given with this experience. I've made real friends here, friends for life. I've learned so much about myself and this business. I kind of have a boyfriend. I know it's such a cliché thing to say, but even if I don't win the competition, just being in this moment I've won. I've done so much more than anyone ever thought I would do.

"Okay," Amanda says, pushing me back a bit. "Enough of that chick flick moment. Tell me what happened?"

"'Chick flick moment'?" I tease.

"Oh, stop deflecting. You know Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki are two delicious specimens of manliness and totally worth sitting at home every Friday night for. Now, spill!"

"Okay! Fine! It's nothing terribly exciting," I say. "We just worked on the song, which is going to be totally awesome, by the way. Then we had lunch and I told him that I wouldn't mind maybe giving the us thing a try when this was all over."

"What?!" she cries. "Oh my god! What did he say?"

"Well, first he hugged me and then he basically asked me out on a date."

"Yay!"

She pulls me up from the chair and starts jumping up and down and dancing around the room like a complete dork. I double over laughing at her excitement. You'd think she was the one who just scored a date with Darren.

"That's so awesome!" she continues. "You totally deserve it. I'm so happy for you. Not that I'm not also insanely jealous, because I am. I mean, hello, Darren Criss. You know I'm going to want details."

"You're not getting details," I insist.

"Nope! It's in the Best Friend Rule Book. And you already said that I'm your best friend and you can't take that back, so I get details. Besides, we're going to be living together and you're going to want to spill to someone and I doubt you want to call your sister to tell her all about your sexy Darren shenanigans."

"Oh my god. This is craziness. You are insane and I don't know what I was thinking agreeing to live with you and calling you my best friend. Clearly, your insanity has rubbed off on me."

"Then, we'll just be insane together!"

Because that's the obvious thing to do.

* * *

The next morning, I get a call from my mom that they'll be coming down a few days early for the next show. Hannah's on Spring Break, so they're going to have a little mini vacation while they can. I figure that now is the best time to tell them about moving to LA with Amanda. My mom will probably cry, but I think they'll be supportive. I mean, this was all their idea, anyway. 

The two weeks we have in before the semi-final show is absolutely packed. I've given so many interviews that I'm starting to get tired of talking about myself. There are more photo shoots and appearances and live performances that I just don't know how people like Darren do this all the time.

I'm signing some autographs after our appearance at The Grove and there's this one kid near the back that keeps catching my eye. He's young, maybe only nine or ten and he's looking at me all wide-eyed, like he's scared of something. He's dressed in pressed khaki shorts, a green check shirt and purple paisley bowtie. I hate to make assumptions about someone just based on how they're dressed, but I can't help feeling like I know what's going on. I see a woman standing over his right shoulder who must be his mother, her eyes are watery and she's gripping his shoulder so hard her knuckles are turning white.

The crowd finally thins out enough that I can make my way over to them. I crouch down so I can look the little boy in the eyes and take the notebook he offers me.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Jason," he says quietly.

"Hi, Jason, I'm Chris. Are you enjoying the show?"

"Yeah. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"My mom says that you like boys instead of girls. Is that true?"

"It is," I say nervously.

"Oh. I think I like boys, too."

I look up at his mom and see her nod her head.

"Well, that's just fine if you do, Jason. And if you decide you don't or that you like boys and girls, that's all right, too. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

His mom starts to pull him away, but he pulls out of her grasp and throws his arms around my neck. I hug him tightly and squeeze my eyes shut against the tears threatening to fall.

"I hope you win," he says as he lets go.

"Thank you," I say. "I'll certainly do my best."

I stand to watch them go and the mother mouths, "Thank you," to me. I smile in return and wave as Jason looks back one last time.

After that, I'm done. I try to be as polite as I can as I make my excuses to the rest of the fans waiting and the other contestants. Amanda gives me a look, but I just wave her off. I head back to the vans to wait for everyone else to finish up and try to wrap my head around what happened. 

Is this who I am now? Am I the new poster child for gay youth? That's a hell of a lot of responsibility. I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

I look up as the van door slides open and see everyone else climbing in. Amanda sinks down into the seat next to me and takes my hand.

"You okay?" she asks quietly.

"Yeah. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess."

"What did that kid say?"

It's an innocent enough question, but for some reason it causes me to burst into tears.

"Hey, Chris, come on," she says, wrapping her arms around my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"No," I say, wiping at my face. "No. It’s not you. That kid…. He came out to me. He's so young and he already knows he's different. I'm scared for him. I know what it's like growing up like that and it's so hard."

"Was that his mom with him?"

"I think so," I nod. "I think they know already or at least strongly suspect. I'm glad for that. He's going to need all the support he can get."

* * *

My parents get into town the Thursday before the live show and they brought my grandma with them. I'm so happy to see her; she's such an amazing woman. Unfortunately, they show up just in time to be dragged off to rehearsal with me, so it's a few hours until we have some free time. 

After the rehearsal, which goes very smoothly, I take a few minutes to introduce everyone to Amanda and Darren. 

"You have a very talented son, Mrs. Colfer," Darren says.

"Oh, thank you," she replies. "We've always known he was special. We're just glad he's finally getting the chance to show the rest of the world what he can do."

I blush at my mom's praise and Darren just smiles at me. 

"You have a very talented team," my mom continues. "If my son weren't up against you, Amanda, you would definitely have my votes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Colfer," Amanda says as we all laugh.

We chat for a few more minutes and I'm happy to see that everyone seems to be getting along. Amanda and Darren are probably soon to be the most important people in my life. I'm glad my family likes them.

We head to a nearby Italian restaurant for dinner and I wait until we're all mostly done with our meals before I break the news to my family.

"So, I have something I need to tell you guys," I say. Everyone stops eating and turns to look at me. I can do this. It's not bad news, just a little difficult, maybe. "After the show is over, Amanda asked me if I would be interested in moving in with her. Here. And I said yes."

I look over at my mom who is on the verge of tears and that's the last thing I wanted.

"No, mom," I say. "Please don't-"

"Oh, no," she interrupts. "No, they're happy tears, I promise. I'm just… I'm so glad you have friends and that you're finally doing something for you. We're all just so proud of you."

"It's about time," my grandma adds.

"Grandma!" I exclaim.

"Well, it is," she says. "You've always been so good to your family, but I've been worried it's been at the expense of what you want to do. So, now you can do that. That's a good thing."

"Do I get your room?" Hannah asks.

"That's not up to me," I tease. "It's not going to be right away, probably," I continue. "I mean, we don't even have a place or anything yet and I'll need to come back home and pack up everything."

We chat through the rest of the meal about my impending move and what my plans are. Since I don't really have any concrete plans right now, it's all very speculative and vague. But, I need to do this and if it's not now, it'll never happen.

* * *

After my family drops me off, I head to the kitchen and find Amanda waiting for me. She pours me a cup of coffee and waits while I fix it to my liking.

"So?" she says.

"So, I told them I was going to be moving here," I say.

"And?"

"And they're fine with it. A little worried that we haven't even started looking at places or anything, but they understand."

"Excellent. Did you mention the other thing?"

"No! God, no," I reply. "That's not even happening yet, so you know. No need to let them in on that until there's actually something to tell."

She looks at me for a moment, but seems to agree with my take on things and shrugs before taking a sip of her coffee.

"How about you?" I ask. "How are you doing with everything? You sounded great in rehearsal."

"Thanks," she says. "I'm kind of getting nervous, to be honest. Compared to what you're doing, is what I'm doing too low key? Is the audience going to want something more showy?"

"Pfft," I reply. "Don't even start with that. You know you have this in bag."

"I know no such thing."

" _Kings and Queens_ was number one on iTunes for what? Three days last week? No one else has even come close to that."

"That was last week," she says. "That's no guarantee that they're going to like what I do this time around."

"I've seen the message boards," I tell her. "Everyone loves you."

"They love you, too," she insists.

"Not everyone. I'm the gay one, remember? That means the homophobes and conservatives have jumped ship to you."

"Well, I don't want those votes."

"Too bad, because they're yours. And don't worry about me," I continue. "I've made it so much farther than I ever thought I would. I'm happy with what I've done. You just need to concentrate on doing what you do and then going on to the finals and kicking everyone else's ass for me."

"Deal," she says.

* * *

The night before the semi-final performances we all seem to be too wired to sleep even though we know we should. Amanda and I are drifting on rafts in the pool; Paul and Bree are sitting under one of the trees discussing the meaning of life or something.

"What would you be doing if you weren't here?" Amanda asks. 

My immediate response would normally be a flippant, "Working at the dry cleaners," but I know things were on the verge of changing even if I didn't end up here.

"I was actually starting to think about applying to some colleges," I admit. "Finally moving on and getting a degree."

"Where were you going to go and what were you going to study?"

"I was looking at Chicago or New York. And writing, I think. I have a lot of voices in my head," I joke.

"Have you actually written anything?"

"Well, I did start a writing club at my high school. I was the only member. There's a screenplay I've been working on for awhile. Oh, and this story I've been working on since I was about eight."

"What's it about?" she asks lazily. I can hear how tired she seems to finally be getting.

"The story is about these twins, a brother and sister, that fall into a fairytale book and the misadventures that meet them therein."

"That sounds awesome," she says as she yawns.

"All right," I reply. "I think it's time to head up to bed."

"I don't wanna," Amanda whines.

"Well, then you're going to fall asleep out here, fall into the pool and drown and then where would we be?"

"Spoilsport," she says.

I hop out of my chair and tow her over to the shallow end. She hangs off me limply as we walk up the steps and onto the deck. I toss her a towel and she hastily dries off. We call out a good night to Paul and Bree and I drag her into the house and to her room. I tuck her in and wish her sweet dreams, but she's snoring before I even close the door behind me.

I head to my room and try to get to sleep, but it's well after 2:00 before I finally drop off. My mind is just a whirl with everything coming up and thoughts of Darren. I've been trying not to think about him too much so I can concentrate on what I need to do, but this late at night with as tired as I am, the thoughts just come. They're innocent enough: the two of us out on a date, walking down the street holding hands, dinner at his place. Sometimes, though, it's easy enough to let those thoughts grow and develop: a kiss at the end of the date, breakfast instead of dinner after a night spent together. I don't know if I'll be any good at this whole dating thing, but there's a part of me that really can't wait to find out.

* * *

We get to the studio bright and early the next morning to get ready. I've drawn the second slot of the night and Amanda has the second to last. They've positioned our team and Blake's team at the beginning and end so we have enough time to get ready between the two numbers. There's one last rehearsal, which goes much better than the last one, and then it's time to get ready. Again, the stylists have absolutely outdone themselves with our clothing for tonight. For my solo number, we've decided on a pair of white dress pants with a subtle gray pinstripe, a white short-sleeve button down shirt, white vest and a bright red silk tie and red Converse to finish it all off. Julie and I have agreed on a little make-up for my performance and Steven styles my hair to show off the highlights he convinced me to let him put in last week. They're subtle, but really do make a difference. 

I head to the green room while I wait for my turn. The Twitter feed is on fire tonight. There's new messages coming in faster than we can catch up with the old ones. The message boards on NBC's website are out of control, too. People pulling for their favorites and trying to get other fans to switch sides and vote for who they think should win. I try to avoid reading too much of those posts, but do see my name and Amanda's mentioned most often. This is going to be an interesting night for sure.

Soon enough, it's my turn and I make my way out to the stage. I give my back-up singers a quick smile and get into place. We've brought most of the band out of their pit and onto the stage behind me. They also managed to dig out an old fashioned TV camera from somewhere, too. I take my place behind the microphone stand, my eyes looking down at my feet as I wait for the music start.

"Here, singing [_Not The Boy Next Door_](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqWZ77uzgZs)," Carson introduces, "this is Chris Colfer!"

The piano and drums start pounding out the opening beat and I lift my eyes as I start to sing.

_Comin' home used to feel so good  
I'm a stranger now in my neighborhood  
I've seen the world at a faster pace  
And I'm comin' now from a diff'rent place  
Though I may look the same way to you  
Underneath there is somebody new_

Here is where the choreography and my back-up singers kick in. It's a simple two-step choreography with some snaps and a little kick on every other beat. I grab the microphone on its stand and swing it side to side with me.

_I am not  
The boy next door  
I don't belong  
Like I did before  
Nothin' ever seems like it used to be  
You can have your dreams, but you can't have me  
Oh, I can't come back there anymore  
'Cause I am not the boy next door_

From there, I just let the song carry me the rest of the way. I'm not nervous or worried; I know I have no chance of winning over Amanda, so I just sing for me. I get to the final chorus, yank the microphone off the stand and march downstage, putting every ounce of attitude and sass that I can muster up into those last few lines. I end with my arm raised in the air, feet planted firmly, the high G ringing out high and clear.

The audience is on its feet again as I finish. Darren is smiling widely and even Christina looks impressed.

"Chris Colfer, everyone!" Carson calls out as he joins me on stage. "Let's start with the other coaches before we get to Darren. Christina, what did you think?"

"Again, every week, I'm just amazed at your vocal ability," she says. "That last note is a killer and you just hit it with no problems. It's very impressive. And I love what you guys did with the staging. Very cool."

"Thank you," I reply.

"Moving on to Mr. Blake Shelton," Carson says.

"I don't know how you do it, man," he says with a laugh. "That was just incredible. The ease at which you swing from the low notes up to those high ones that I would only be able to reach if someone cut off my balls. I love it."

"Okay," Carson replies slightly bewildered as I am by his comments. I think it was a compliment, but I'm not entirely sure he didn't just call me a eunuch. "And Darren. What did you think?"

"That was just fantastic," Darren says. "You've really been on your game this week and that was really just perfect. I couldn't be more proud of you than I am right now."

"Thank you so much," I say.

I smile to the camera and give a little wave as Carson gives out my numbers for this week. When he's finished, I rush off stage to get ready for our group number. Amanda runs into me in the hall and almost knocks me over with how hard she hits me. 

"You were fantastic!" she cries. "You were trending on Twitter the whole time. It was really awesome."

"Really?" I ask. I was worried that it might be a little too out there for everyone to really appreciate.

"Trust me," she says. "It's gonna be a close race this week."

We talk for a few more minutes and then I have to hurry to get changed for our group number. Luckily, this outfit is much simpler – just jeans and a black long-sleeve button down shirt. We're all in variations of the same outfit to give unity to our little group.

After performances by Teams Christina and Cee Lo it's time to take the stage again. 

"Welcome back to The Voice, the live Semi-Finals," Carson begins. "Until now, Team Darren and Team Blake have been competing. Tonight, they join forces and form a Semi-Finalists Super Group. With _We Are Young_ by fun., give it up for Team Darren and Team Blake!"

The drum beat starts and the lights slowly fade up on Bree as she starts us off. Amanda comes in after that and I finish off the first verse before we all join our voices for the chorus.

_So if by the time the bar closes  
And you feel like falling down  
I’ll carry you home_

_Tonight  
We are young  
So let’s set the world on fire  
We can burn brighter than the sun_

Paul picks up the second verse and everything just falls into place from there. Our voices sound so amazing together, I wish we'd been able to do more performances like this. After a rousing ovation from the crowd, Amanda and Bree rush off to get changed for their solo numbers and Paul and I head back to the green room where we get interviewed by Christina Milian.

"You guys sounded great!" she says.

"Thanks," Paul and I reply together. 

"I loved it," I continue. "I never thought they would, but our voices fit together so well."

"They really do," Paul adds. "I kind of wish we'd had more opportunities to do numbers like that."

"I was just thinking the same thing!" I exclaim.

"Well, it sounds like you guys definitely had a lot of fun tonight," she concludes. "Carson, back to you."

Paul and I collapse on the couch, laughing at our apparently shared brain. Again, it hits me how much I'm really going to miss everyone when this is all over.

We watch the final four performances. I'm once more glued to the screen as Amanda takes the stage. She's singing [_Valerie_](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0HwXFQ4A6E). And not the amped up Mark Ronson produced version, but the original low-key album version. It's just her, a guitar, and a keyboard. Even without all the production bang like she had last week, she's still just phenomenal. Her ease on the stage and with her voice is unmatched by anyone else in the competition. If she doesn’t win, there is something seriously wrong with America.

And then there's nothing for us to do but wait.

* * *

_All right, here we go. Coaches, you have all seen the eight semi-finalists give incredible performances tonight. Now, it's time to make a tough decision. You have 100 points to divide between your artists as you see fit. For you at home, your input is equally important._

_Coaches, you will now write down your scores; we'll come back and collect them. But now, let's take a look back at tonight's incredible performances._

_All right coaches, time is up. Your scores are now locked and will be taken by Alex, a representative of the voting firm._

_Tomorrow night, we're going to combine the results of the coaches' scores and America's votes and reveal who is going to the finals._


	7. Chapter 6

_Welcome to The Voice. We are live. I'm Carson Daly and these are your coaches: Darren Criss, Cee Lo Green, Christina Aguilera and Blake Shelton!_

_Well, it's a packed house. This is it, everybody. This is the night we find out who will represent their coach in next week's finals. The top two artists from each team are here, but one will be going home and the other will move on to possibly win it all._

_And if they look a little nervous, it's for a very good reason. Tonight, there are no last chance performances, no saves. Your votes combined with the coaches' scores determine the final decision._

_We've got a big show, too, full of homecomings. Our final four from last season will perform along with special appearances from Kid Cudi, Cyndi Lauper and coach Cee Lo Green._

_Before we get started, let's take a look at last night's performances where all eight of these semi-finalists held nothing back._

* * *

After Carson's introduction, the eight of us are herded into the green room to await our time on stage. Amanda and I are the second group to go, so we have about a half hour to go until we learn our fate. We sit backstage and watch as Paul is eliminated from Team Blake, leaving Bree as his representative in the finals.

After a performance by another of the season one finalists, it's our turn. I'm oddly not nervous, though. I've made my peace with however tonight turns out. If Amanda wins, I will be genuinely happy and excited for her. She's an amazingly talented girl and seeing how much she's grown since we've been here has been just wonderful to watch.

If I win, well, I don't think that's terribly likely to happen. But, if I do, I will be gracious and do my best to represent Darren and the rest of the team in the finals next week.

"Now, let's go over to Team Darren," Carson starts. "Before we get to the results, let's take a look at Chris and Amanda's performances from last night."

There's a short montage of our performances with commentary from Darren. It's the first we're getting to hear what he had to say last night.

"Chris is really just fearless," he says. "Any challenge I've given him he's met head on and just knocked it down. I'm so proud of what he's done here."

I look down and catch Darren's eye and mouth "thank you" to him. He just smiles and nods in return as the tape continues with Amanda's performance.

"Amanda has really been an undiscovered jewel for me. I loved what she did in the audition, of course, but seeing how much she's blossomed and gotten stronger as an artist has been a wonderful thing to be a part of."

"With me now on stage," Carson continues, "Chris Colfer and Amanda Crawford from Team Darren. Darren, any final words for your artists?"

"Um, yeah," Darren says, pausing and taking a deep breath. "You are both incredibly talented artists. The joy you've given me in being part of this experience with you is something I will never forget. Whatever happens tonight, please don't forget that. Chris, keep being courageous. What you've been able to accomplish here is something that goes well beyond just being a singer. You've become a real role model for a lot of people. Amanda, keep smiling. Keep singing. Your enthusiasm for what you do and the passion and drive you have is something for everyone to admire."

I swear, by the end of his speech, I'm close to tears. I had promised myself I wouldn't cry, but when Darren says things like that, it's a little hard not to.

"All right, let's get down to it," Carson says. "Last night, Darren split up 100 points between you. It's now time to see Darren's scores."

Amanda and I cling to each other as we watch the sliding scales on the in-studio monitor.

"An even 50/50 split," Carson says. "Darren, what was your thought process behind that?"

"At this point, I've done everything I can. I can no more choose between you than a mother could choose a favorite child. For me, it really is all up to America at this point."

"Okay, but it's not over. Now, it's time to see how America voted. You guys ready?" Carson asks us. Amanda and I just laugh nervously in response. "When we add in America's votes, the artist advancing to the finals is…"

The sliding scale moves once more, stopping with 112 points for Amanda and 88 for me. Amanda immediately turns and pulls me into a hug, I can feel her crying and I just tell her it's okay. I'm fine with this, absolutely fine. Darren comes to join us and congratulate Amanda before she's ushered off stage. Darren pulls me into a brief hug and then Carson turns his attention to me.

"Chris, any last words?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, blinking back tears. "I have had such an amazing time here. I've met some really wonderful people and made some amazing friends. I just want to thank Darren for taking a chance on me and helping me through this process and grow, not just as an artist, but as a person. I also wanted to give a shout-out to all the people you don't see – the wardrobe people and the hair and make-up artists and our choreographer. Believe me, I would not be here without their help. I'm so proud of Amanda and I know she'll serve Darren well next week."

"Thank you, Chris," Carson says.

I tune out the rest of what Carson says, he's just throwing to a commercial anyway, as Darren pulls me into another hug.

"You are wonderful," he tells me quietly. "Please don't forget that."

"I won't," I say. "I promise."

I head backstage where I am immediately accosted by my family. My mom is crying, Hannah looks like she's trying not to, even my dad looks a little watery. My grandma pulls me into a tight hug and tells me she's proud of me.

"Thank you, guys," I say once the hug-fest is over. "But, I'm okay. Really."

"We know, sweetie," my mom says. "And we are all so proud of you. I just really wanted you to win."

I have to laugh at that. I do have an amazing family and I'm going to miss them once I move, but it's time for me to start living my life.

* * *

After all the results are announced and the top four are named, we head over to a local restaurant that NBC has rented out for a party for all the semi-finalists. There's good food, good music and free booze. What more could a guy ask for?

I find myself alone for a few minutes and I think back over everything that's happened and everything that is still going to happen. I really have accomplished so much, gained a huge following of fans, made some amazing friends and am finally on track to actually doing what I want. Now, I just need to find an apartment for Amanda and I and I definitely need to start thinking about finding an agent, for sure.

I'm broken out of my thoughts by someone tapping my shoulder and saying, "Excuse me?"

I turn and come face to face with an older gentleman who looks somewhat familiar, but I can't quite place him. He's tall, slim, wearing casual clothes and bright yellow newsboy cap to conceal a possibly balding head.

"Chris Colfer, right?" he says.

"Yes, that's me," I reply.

"Ryan Murphy. It's a pleasure to meet you," he says holding out his hand.

 _Oh, shit!_ I think.

"Mr. Murphy!" I exclaim. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Finally?" he asks.

"I was supposed to audition for you a few years back when you were first casting Glee, but I had some family problems come up and I had to cancel. Which, oddly enough, is also the reason I'm here. On this show. And I'm rambling," I laugh.

"That's all right," he laughs. "I thought your name sounded familiar. I guess fate has a funny way of working out, huh?"

"I guess so."

"Listen, do you have a few minutes? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

I spend the next half hour or so talking with Ryan over some plans he has and I'm absolutely gob smacked and speechless by the time he's done. He parts with another handshake and I'm left standing there, slightly numb and overwhelmed.

"Was that Ryan Murphy?"

I turn and see Darren standing at my elbow, looking in the direction Ryan just walked away. I can only nod in reply.

"Did he have anything interesting to say?" Darren asks.

I clear my throat and try to recapture my ability to speak. "I, uh, I think he just offered me a job."

"Oh my God! Chris, that's amazing! What did he say?"

"He, uh, he wants to talk to me about a possible role on Glee next season. Um, something about introducing a new rival glee club? Since a lot of the original cast is leaving after this season with them being seniors, they want to use season four as a sort of fresh start to the whole thing, introduce a new class and all that. He mentioned a new group from an all boys boarding school as sort of a replacement to Vocal Adrenaline and they've been looking for someone to play the dashing and talented front-man for them."

"Holy shit!" Darren exclaims, sweeping me into a hug. "That's fantastic! I mean, now you won't have to choose between acting or singing; you'll get to do both."

"Well, if they like me," I reply.

"They'll love you," Darren assures me, grabbing me by my biceps and staring straight into my eyes. My breath catches at the thought that maybe it's not just them that could love me.

"Thanks," I say.

"Have the lawyers talked to yet about agents and all that?" he asks.

"A bit, yeah. But I was going to wait until this was all over and I really made a choice about what I was going to do before I made a decision about anything, but I guess that decision's been made. And now I really need to find a place to live."

"You were planning on moving here?"

"Yeah," I say. "Amanda actually asked me a couple weeks ago if I wanted to find a place with her. So, we're gonna do that."

"That's so great. I love that you guys are doing that. Actually, I might know a place," Darren says.

"Really? Otherwise, I was going to try and apartment hunt next week during my downtime, but that's going to be crazy, I know."

"Yeah, my friend Joey is looking to sublet his apartment. He just got a gig back in New York for, like, six months. So, it wouldn't be permanent or anything, but it would be good enough for the short term to give you guys some time to get settled and really find a place you like."

"Joey Richter Joey?"

"Um, yeah," Darren says.

"I could get to live in Ron Weasley's apartment?"

Darren almost spits out the sip of his drink he had taken, he starts laughing so hard. I just stare at him because it wasn't that funny.

"Sorry," he chokes out once he's recovered. "Sorry. I forget that you're a Starkid fanboy sometimes. But, yes, you could get to live in Ron's apartment."

"That would be awesome!" I exclaim. "A huge help for sure. Thank you so much."

"Well, you haven't got the apartment, yet. But I'll call him tomorrow, make sure it's still available and then see if we can figure out a time for you guys to go see it."

"It is a two bedroom, right?" I just have to be sure. I didn't figure that most people would be living in a two-bedroom if they didn't need to with the price of real estate around here.

"Yeah," Darren assures me. "He's been using the second bedroom as a studio/music room/office thing. So, yeah. Plenty of room for you and Amanda."

"That sounds really great," I say.

"Good!" Darren agrees. "Now, about what Mr. Murphy had to say…"

I grin as I tell him again about what happened. I can't believe all my dreams might finally be coming true.

* * *

My final week of being a part of The Voice is surprisingly busy for not actually being a contestant anymore. There's some rehearsal for the group number I'll be doing with Amanda during the results show, but it's mostly a lot of press and interviews talking about the whole experience and how my life has changed and what I'm planning to do now.

"My life is basically 180 degrees from where it was before the show," I say for the millionth time that day. Trying to find new ways to say the same thing over and over again is a very interesting challenge. "So many doors have been opened to me because of this experience. Even though I didn't win the competition, I haven't been defeated. I mean, just the opposite, really. The people I've met here, the friends I've made are connections I'll have for life. I couldn't be happier with what I've done."

Everyone is back for the final shows; we're all hanging in the green room backstage while our teammates give the performance of their lives. I'm probably biased, but I'm pretty sure Amanda has this one in the bag. Her rendition of [_Clocks_](http://youtu.be/d020hcWA_Wg) has the biggest reaction of the night and she definitely gets the best feedback from the judges.

"I mean, I don't even know if there is anything to say," Blake says. "That was just absolutely amazing. You just owned that stage."

"That was just…" Darren says. "I am so, so proud of you. That performance was absolutely everything it needed to be. Just… beautiful."

The other three perform well, too. At this stage in the game, it really is the absolute best left. But there's something about Amanda. When she's on stage, she just… lights up. She shines from the inside and you can tell she truly _loves_ being up there. To me, she's the obvious choice.

* * *

The next morning, I'm back on the stage rehearsing with Amanda, Paul, and Sophie from Team Christina for the results show. We're doing [_Streetcorner Symphony_](http://youtu.be/9oO6n21QNqI) and it's so much fun. It's great to be back and performing with everyone.

During the small break we have between rehearsal and the show, Amanda and I spend discussing our impending move to LA. We met with Joey a couple days ago and he agreed that we were the perfect candidates to sublet his apartment. Everything is really falling into place and I'm just so excited to start the next part of my life.

"Are you ready for tonight?" I ask.

"As I'll ever be," she says with a nervous laugh. "I mean, leaving aside the results, I'm performing _with_ Darren and also one of his songs. Which, man, I cannot mess up _Not Alone_. I will be eviscerated by his fans if that happens."

"You're not gonna mess it up," I say. "You sounded amazing in rehearsal, so don't even worry your pretty little head about it."

"Thank you," she says, her voice wavering.

"Oh no. Don't you start crying," I say.

"I'm sorry!" she cries, taking a deep breath. "Okay, calming down. Don't want to ruin my make-up anyway. But, seriously, thank you for… everything. You are a truly wonderful person, Chris. I'm so glad I met you and if that's the only thing I take away from this competition, then I'm happy."

There's really nothing I can say to that, so I just hug her tightly and wish her well. Then, I'm off to the green room to wait with everyone else for the results.

Amanda and Darren are actually up first, doing [_If It's Love_](http://youtu.be/RxWK3qACDGk) and they sound fantastic together. Even if Amanda doesn't win this, she's not going to have any problem getting a recording contract. I'm in absolute awe of her talent.

About half way through the show, she's up again, doing _Not Alone_.

"This is for everyone who has ever felt different," she says. "Don't ever let anyone change you. You are wonderful just as you are."

The camera pans to Darren as she starts to sing and he's not even trying to hide the fact that he's crying. Tears are just streaming down his face. As they are mine, if we're being honest. It's just her and her faithful piano on that stage and I'm not sure I've ever heard a more beautiful and raw version of the song. She takes my breath away. 

"So, Chris," Christina Milian asks me backstage. "What do you think Amanda's chances are at winning this?"

"Oh, gosh, 100%," I say. "I mean, call me biased if you want, but for me she is just absolutely brilliant and I can't take my eyes off her when she's performing. She draws you in with everything she sings."

"I heard a little rumor that you guys are going to be roommates?"

"Wherever did you hear such a thing?" I tease. "But, yes, that is true. We've got a place lined up and we're making the big move to LA permanently. I'm very excited."

"Well, good luck to you both."

"Thank you."

Before it feels like I've even had time to blink, all the performances are done, the highlight reels have been shown and it's time for the results. I think I might be more nervous than Amanda.

"Welcome back to The Voice. It is the live finale," Carson says. "Our final four, Amanda, Bree, CJ and Kellie, are here with me now. Ladies and gentlemen, it is the moment we've been waiting for all season long."

The audience bursts into applause as the stage lights dim and the dramatic music starts to play. I know it's all part of the package of these results shows, but sometimes I just really wish they would get on with it.

"Over the weeks, you've watched these artists rise to the top of their teams, out-sing their competition and now it all comes down to this moment right here. Here's what we're gonna do," Carson continues. "I will first reveal the artist in fourth place and this was a very close race. Less than one percentage point separates the artists in third and fourth place. Here we go, the finalist in fourth place is…"

 _Not Amanda. Do not call Amanda's name,_ I think.

"…CJ Paulson."

_Yes! One step closer._

CJ gives a very heartfelt speech, thanking his family and his whole team for their support. He was a nice guy. I hope he's successful with what he chooses to do after this.

"Now, let's find out which artist came in third," Carson says.

I squeeze my eyes shut and pray to whatever deity might be listening that it's not Amanda. I don't think I've ever wished so hard for someone's name _not_ to be called.

I let out a silent cheer as Kellie's name is called.

Now, it's down to Amanda and Bree. I know they've become close, too, so this must be hard for them. Sadly, only one of them can win this.

"Now, we are down to two. Team Darren and Team Blake represented – Amanda Crawford and Bree Ryan. One of you is The Voice."

I'm so nervous you would think I was the one up on stage. My stomach is in knots, my palms are sweating and I swear my heart is going to beat out of my chest. 

"Again, this race was so close, a mere two and a half percentage points separated the two of you. Are you ready to find out the winner?"

"Yes!" we all yell back in the green room.

"After all the calls, the texts, the votes online, and all the downloads, the winner of season two of The Voice is…"

Paul grabs my hand as Carson pauses. It has to be Amanda. It just has to be.

"Amanda Crawford!"

"Yes!" I shout. "Yes!"

I turn to find the other members from Team Darren running towards me. We all jump onto each other in celebration. No, I didn't win the competition, but my team did. And even better than that, my dear, dear friend won. I honestly couldn't be happier right now.

* * *

Three days later and I'm finally packing up the last of my stuff to head home for a couple weeks before moving back to LA. I can't believe how much my life has changed in the last five months. I close my suitcase and sit on the bed, looking out the window. 

This is where my life truly began. This is where I learned what it was to just be me and to be okay with that. I tried being other people, but myself suits me best. It seems other people like me just as I am, too. Which might just be the most amazing thing I take away from this.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on my door and I look over to see Darren standing there.

Darren.

I smile and pat the bed next to me, inviting him to sit. He does and stays silent for a moment before turning to look at me.

"So, Chris Colfer," he says. "Are you happy?"

I think about his question for a moment. Am I happy? I didn’t win the competition, but I got out of Clovis. I have some amazing friends. I have Darren. I hope. So, yeah.

"Yes," I say, turning to meet his gaze.

"Good," he says. "You weren't when you first got here, you know. That's really all I wanted for you. Even if you didn't win, I just hoped that maybe you could at least figure out how to be happy."

"Well, then I guess we both won, huh?" I say smiling.

"Yeah. We did get each other out of all this," he says, his eyes dropping to my lips. "The competition is over, you know."

"Oh, is it?" I tease.

"Mm hmm. And you know what that means?"

I shake my head.

"It means that I would really like to kiss you now. Properly and soberly and without fear of any repercussions from the powers that be."

"Okay," I whisper.

He slowly leans in, giving me a chance to back out I assume, but that's not gonna happen. His hand comes up to cup my cheek as our lips meet and it's just as wonderful as I remember the first one being but a million times better. 

Because now we can actually do this. Because now I know he really means it.

I moan as he pulls away, chasing his lips, not wanting the moment to end. He laughs softly as he sits back. 

"Patience," he whispers.

"Right," I say. "Soon, I will live here and well, we can do that whenever we want, right?"

"We can do that as often as you like," he agrees. "When do you get back?"

"I should be back by the end of the month," he says. "You know Joey's off on the twentieth and I have a copy of the key and the papers have been signed and everything. So, hopefully just about two weeks and I'll be here for good."

"I'm going to call you every day until you get back," he promises.

"You better."

"When are your folks gonna be here?"

I check my watch and see that it's later than I thought it was. "Any time now," I say.

"Then I guess I better kiss you again before they get here."

He kisses me softly and I can't believe he picked me. Way back during the Blind Auditions and now. Darren Criss chose me when he could have anyone he wanted.

I'm the luckiest guy in the world.

* * *

_SIX MONTHS LATER_

I'm flipping the last of the pancakes out of the pan when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist and a kiss is pressed to my shoulder.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," I say. "There's coffee made."

Darren just grunts his thanks and blindly reaches for his mug and pours a generous helping, swallowing it down still hot and bitter. I just shake my head at him. I don't know how he can do that. He must have a cast iron stomach.

I finish breakfast in silence and set everything out on the table. It's a big day for both of us and I want it to start on the right foot.

"So," Darren finally says a few minutes later. "Are you ready for your first day on Glee, Mr. Hummel?"

"Oh, god," I say. "Would you stop it with the stupid name?"

Yes, I got the part on Glee that Ryan had talked to me about those many months ago and, for whatever reason, he decided to name the character for me. Instead of the lead singer of The Warblers being Blaine Anderson as he was written, he was now Kurt Hummel. Because, apparently, I remind Ryan of a Hummel doll. Darren, of course, could not leave that one alone and teased me about it whenever he could.

"Sorry," he says.

"No, you're not."

"You're right. I'm not. But, the question still stands."

"I am absolutely petrified," I admit. "It's kind of intimidating walking into a cast that's so established. What if they don't like me?"

"They'll love you," he assures me. "I've heard nothing but good things about everyone from that show. You'll be great."

"Thanks. What about you?"

"Ugh. I hate the battle round," he says. "It's just the worst, having to cut someone's dreams down like that."

"Well, just try not to pick up anyone else this season," I tease.

"Never. I love you too much to even think about there being anyone else."

I pause in the eating of my pancake, the fork hovering somewhere in midair. Darren just said he loved me. That's the first time he's said that. Oh, goodness.

"Huh," he says, as if he just realizes what he said. "Well, there are better ways I could have said that, I think, but it doesn't make it any less true. I love you."

"Oh," I say, slowly putting my fork down. "I… I love you, too," I stutter.

The smile that lights up Darren's face is enough to block out the sun. He gets up from his chair and pulls me into his arms, dipping me back in a ridiculous fashion before kissing me like I've never been kissed before. 

I clear my throat as he rights me and I get my equilibrium back. "Well, that's certainly one way to start the morning."

We finish our breakfast quickly after that and rush off to share a very exuberant shower before parting for the day. Darren heads off to the NBC studios and I head off to Fox. I can't help but think of that Beatles song as I pull into the Glee lot for the first time.

"You were only waiting for this moment to arise," I sing.

This is it. 

Time for my life to begin.

THE END


End file.
